y  \AX^t<jr  X^    U^yi^yvyx,       j 


UNIVERSITY 

AT    LOS  ANGELES 


/  -^ 


8  T  3      1  g 


EDWARD   EVERETT. 


THE  SIXTEEN 


Perfective  Laws  of  Art 


Applied  to  Oratory. 


BY 

CHARLES   WESLEY    EMERSON, 

FOUNDER    EMERSON    COLLEGE    OF    ORATORY,    BOSTON. 


m  FOUR    VOLUMES. 
Vol.  T. 


4/>  *•/  f"   '- 


PUBLISHED    B\' 

EMERSON   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

MiLLis,  Mass. 

1922 


C0PYBIGHT\1822O 

By  CHARLES  WESLEY  EMERSON". 


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>  »    •         •     >!  ,  e 


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INDEX. 

chap.  page. 

Introduction 5 

Key  to  Chapter  First 9 

I.    The  Study  of  Eloquence    .        .        .     Cicero         .        .        .11 

I.    Honor  to  American  Patriots  .        •    Daniel  Webster  .  15 

I.    Charles  Sumner Carl  Schurz       .        .  18 

I.    Lucius  Junius  Brutus'  Oration  Over 

THE  Body  of  Lucrbtia         .        .    John  Howard  Payne    21 

I.    Literary  Attractions  of  the  Bible   Dr.  Hamilton     .        .  24 

I.    Music  in  Nature Simeon  Pease  Cheney  27 

Key  to  Chapter  Second 33 

II.    The  Cataract  of  Lodobb  .        .        .    Robert  Southey  .  37 

II.    The  Death  of  Copernicus         .        .    Edward  Everett         .  42 

II.    Exile  of  the  Arcadians    .        .        .    H.  W.  Longfellow      .  44 

II.    The  Musicians 50 

II.    The  Story  of  the  Cable  .        .        .    James  T.  Field  .        .  52 

II.    The  Petrified  Fern    ....    Mary  Lydia  Bolles    .  57 

II.    Value  of  the  Union    ....    Daniel  Webster  .  58 

Key  to  Chapter  Third 61 

III.     Speech  in  Reply  to  Hayne       .        .    Daniel  Webster  .  63 

III.    Absalom N.  P.  Willis       .        .  70 

III.     Zenobja's  Ambition      ....     William  Ware   .        .  74 

III.    Columbus  First  Discovers  Land  in 

THE  New  World     ....     Washington  Irving    ,  Tl 

III.    Catiline  and  Aukklia         .        .        .    O.  Croly     .        .        .80 

8 


INDEX. 


chap.  paok. 

Key  to  Chapter  Fourth 83 

IV.    Toussaint's  Last  Strugqlks  for 

Hayti Wendell  Phillips  .  85 

IV.    Birds  of  Passage         ....  Mrs.  Hemans      .  ,  91 

IV.     Ecclksiastes  XII Bible  .        .        .  .93 

IV.    The  Two  Hundredth  Anniversary 

OF  the  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims  Daniel  Webster  .  .  94 

IV.     The  Messiah  .         .                         ,        .  Alexander  Pope  .  98 

IV.    Each  Can  Bear  his  Own   -       .       .  Joseph  Addison .  102 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE   SIXTEEN  PERFECTIVE   LAWS   OF  ART. 

This  work  is  arranged  for  the  purpose  of  perfecting 
in  oratorical  study  those  who  have  mastered,  both 
philosophically  and  practically,  the  Evolution  of  Ex- 
pression, which  is  now  before  the  public. 

Like  the  Evolution  of  Expression  this  work  is 
divided  into  four  volumes,  and  each  volume  into  four 
chapters.  Each  chapter  illustrates  a  progressive  step 
in  the  evolution  of  the  Perfective  Laws,  to  which  is 
prefixed  a  key  which  explains  the  application  of  the 
law  to  oratory,  and  the  method  of  teaching  it.  As  in 
the  previous  work  the  study  is  taken  up  in  the  logical 
OjldfiXjof  mental  evolution  in  oratory. 

The  selections  in  these  volumes  have   been  chosen 

Firsts     FOR  THEIR  LITERARY  MERIT. 

Secondly,  BECAUSE  THEY  ILLUSTRATE  THE  PER- 
FECTIVEJ^AWS  OF  ART  APELIEIL  TO  ORATORY._ 

Thirdly,  BECAUSE  THEY  APPEAL  DIRECTLY  TO  THE 
ORATORICAL  POWERS  OP  THE  MIND. 


6  THE    SIXTEEN"   PERFECTIVE   LAWS    OP   ART.       [Vol.  I. 

1st.     No  person  can  develop  his  oratorical  powers    \\j\ 
while  using  any  bujb  the  noblest  models  of  style. ^  It  ^u^/ 
is    a  great   mistake   to  practise  on  poor  literature  or    /n^ 
upon  ^defective   lanofua,ffey    Those    who   are   studying 
oratory  or  >expressivfi,  reading   cannot    be    too  careiui 
in  this  res  peij^l'^'^nfer  »^cultiyated  and  classical  habit 
has  been  established,  the  student  can  accommodate  his 
talents  to  low  comedy  and  selections  containing  amus- 
ing dialects  without  harm :  but  if  he  does  this  before 
he  IS    thoroughly  educated  in  oratory  he  will  dwarf 
his  powers  to  the  extent  of  unfitting  himself  to  become 
an  orator  or  to  give  high  dramatic  expression. 

The  great  comedians  developed  their  powers  for 
expressing  that  form  of  literature  which  is  designed 
to  entertain  and  amuse,  by  the  severest  study  and 
practice  of  classical  styles. 

2d.  While  all  of  the  best  forms  of  literature  fulfil 
the  sixteen  laws  named  in  this  work,  each  selection 
emphasizes  one  law  more  than  it  does  others.  An 
author  in  one  part  of  his  discourse  is  likely  to  em- 
phasize one  law  most,  and  in  some  other  part,  another. 
In  such  cases  the  discourse  has  been  divided,  and  the 
different  parts  put  under  the  chapters  which  they 
respectively  illustrate. 

3d.     The  oratorical   element  is  very  strong  in  all 
these  selections,  so  strong,  indeed,  that  it  arouses  the 
spirit  of  eloquence  in  the  student  as   martial  music 
awakens    the    military   spirit   in   the   listener.     Greats 
orators  inspire  the  latent  oratorical  forces  in  those  who 


DTTEODUCTIOK.  I 

listen  to  them,  so  that  in  a  certain  sense  oratory  may 
be  said  to  be  contagious.  The  literary  production  that 
sprang  from  the  oratorical  faculties  of  one  will  appeal 
directly  to  the  oratorical  powers  of  others,  just  the 
same  as  a  good  musical  composition  will  quicken  the 
musical  feeling  in  the  musician. 

The  final  perfecting  of  the  orator  and  expressive 
reciter  or  reader  comes  from  moulding  his  powers  in 
accordance  with  these  laws. 

The  work  in  Evolution  of  Expression  would  ulti- 
mately develop  all  the  powers  required  by  these  Six- 
teen Perfective  Laws;  but  experience  has  taught  us 
that  after  the  student  has  worked  with  the  laws  of 
evolution  until  he  seems  to  be  able  to  meet,  to  a  reason- 
able degree,  their  requirements,  he  will  make  more 
■capid  progress  by  working  directly  with  the  perfective 
laws.  Among  other  good  results,  they  at  once  point 
out  to  the  student  those  laws  of  evolution  in  which  he 
is  most  deficient.  This  inspires  him  with  a  readiness 
to  work  again  upon  those  steps  of  evolution  which  he 
would  otherwise  forever  neglect. 

He  soon  discovers  for  himself  that  it  is  impossible 
to  work  successfully  in  the  Perfective  Laws  until  he 
has  reached  certain  criteria  in  the  Evolution  of  Ex- 
pression. 

In  these  four  volumes  the  sixteen  perfective  laws  of 
art  are  adapted  to  the  study  of  oratory,  but  they  are 
equally  applicable  to  all  forms  of  art  because  they  are 
universal  laws.     These  laws  first  of   all  define  what 


8  THE    SIXTKBN    PEEFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    ART.        [Tol.I. 

_art  is ;  secondly,  when  used  as  criteria  determine 
the  rank  or  value  of  each  work  of  art;  thirdly,  they 
furnish  the  ideal  which  the  student  of  art  should  aim 
to  realize  in  his  work. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  paragraphing  the  selec- 
tions we  have  not  always  followed  rhetorical  usage. 
This  unusual  division  is  for  the  purpose  of  greater 
convenience  in  drill  work. 

The  keys  to  the  various  chapters  are  not  as  elaborate 
as  they  might  be,  because  they  are  more  valuable  in 
the  suggestive  than   they  would   be   in  the  didactic' 
form. 


KEY   TO   CHAPTER   FIRST. 

PURITY. 

Every  expression  is  required  to  be  so  clear  and  so 
adequate  to  the  thought  that  the  audience  shall  think 
^   along  the  line    of    the    discourse,  in    advance   of   the 
speaker's  words. 

■Purity}  of  expression  frests]primaril_y  upon  ^Rgorof 
tliu uglily  A  person  may  fully  understand  the  author, 
he  'ffiSy' experience  the  emotions  that  respond  to  the 
thought,  and  still  lack  the  mental  vigor  necessary  to 
purity  of  expression.  The  emotion  may  obscure  the 
puri,ty.  This  is  a  common  'fault.  It  is  not  because 
tte  person  is  possessed  of  too  emotional  a  nature,  nor 
because  the  mind  does  not  act  quickly  and  comprehen- 
sively. It  is  possible  for  the  intellect  to  grasp  the 
thought  readily  and  clearly,  and  the  feelings  to  respond 
properly,  and  yet  the  expression  lack  purity,  because 
the  entire  manifestation  is  devoted  to  expressing  the 
feeling  caused  by  the  thought.  The  consequence  is 
that  while  tlie  audience  recognize  the  feelings  of  the 
speaker,  they  fail  to  perceive  the  thought  that  causes 
the  emotion,  and  therefore  do  not  sympathize  with 
the  speaker,  and  are  burdened,  if  not  disgusted  by  his 
emotion. 


10  THE    SIXTEEN   PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF   ART.        [Vol.  I. 

There  may  be  great  promise  in  such  a  speaker,  but 
at  present  he  possesses  little  power  as  an  orator.  The 
emotion  must  seem  to  make  the  thought  that  caused 
it  stronger  and  more  brilliant,  or  it  is  offensive.  The 
more  emotion  the  better,  provided  it  takes  definite  and 
intelligible  forms  of  expression ;  otherwise  the  less  the 
better. 

A  person  may  think  clearly  the  thought  of  the  author^ 
and  while  speaking  experience^  and  that  deeply  too^  all 
the  emotions  naturally  attendant  upon  such  thought^  and 
yet  not  only  fail  of  being  a  good  speaker  hut  prove  to  he 
a  positively  had  one. 

Still,  on  the  other  hand,  what  does  not  spontaneously 
flow  from  the  activities  of  intellect,  feeling,  and  imagi- 
nation of  the  speaker,  while  he  is  speaking,  is  not  well 
expressed. 

No  amount  of  preparation  can  be  successfully  sub- 
stituted for  present  mental  and  emotional  activity. 
Previous  preparation,  if  correct,  produces  greater 
present  activity. 

All  this  activity,  however,  must  take  definite  form 
in  the  many  uses  of  the  voice,  and  in  the  gestures,  so 
that  nothing  meaningless  or  with  incorrect  meaning, 
will  appear  in  them.  In  a  word,  all  psychological 
movements  must  take  definite  and  communicating 
forms  or  the  expression  will  prove  ineffective.  As 
Demosthenes  said,  '*  Oratory  is  action,  action,  action," 
but  it  is  action  in  intelligible  forms. 


,  1"  -  r 


l..r 


CHAPTER 


K 


rURITY. 
Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart:  for  they  shall  see  God.—  St.  Matthett  v. 


THE  STUDY  OF  ELOQUENCE. 

1.  One  thing  there  will  certainly  be,  which  those 
who  speak  well  will  exhibit  as  their  own ;  a  graceful 
and  elegant  style,  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  artifice 
and  polish.  But  this  kind  of  diction,  if  there  be  not 
matter  beneath  it  clear  and  intelligible  to  the  speaker, 
must  either  amount  to  nothing,  or  be  received  with 
ridicule  by  all  who  hear  it. 

2.  For  Avhat  savors  so  much  of  madness,  as  the 
empty  sound  of  words,  even  the  choicest  and  most 
elegant,  when  there  is  no  sense  or  knowledge  contained 
in  them  ?  Whatever  be  the  subject  of  a  speech,  there- 
fore, in  whatever  art  or  branch  of  science,  the  orator, 
if  he  has  made  himself  master  of  it,  as  of  his  client's 
cause,  will  speak  on  it  Tx;tter  and  more  elegantly  than 
even  the  very  originator  and  author  of  it  can. 

u 


12  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  L 

3.  If,  indeed,  any  one  shall  say  that  there  are  certain 
trains  of  thought  and  reasoning  properly  belonging  to 
orators,  and  a  knowledge  of  certain  things  circum- 
scribed within  the  limits  of  the  forum,  I  will  confess 
that  our  common  speech  is  employed  about  these 
matters  chiefly ;  but  yet  there  are  many  things,  in 
these  very  topics,  which  those  masters  of  rhetoric,  as 
they  are  called,  neither  teach  nor  understand. 

4.  For  who  is  ignorant  that  the  highest  power  of  an 
orator  consists  in  exciting  the  minds  of  men  to  anger, 
or  to  hatred,  or  to  grief,  or  in  recalling  them  from 
these  more  violent  emotions  to  gentleness  and  com- 
passion, which  power  will  never  be  able  to  eifect  its 
object  by  eloquence,  unless  in  him  who  has  obtained 
a  thorough  insight  into  the  nature  of  mankind,  and 
all  the  passions  of  humanity,  and  those  causes  by 
which  our  minds  are  either  impelled  or  restramed. 

5.  But  all  these  are  thought  to  belong  to  the 
philosophers,  nor  will  the  orator,  at  least  with  my 
consent,  ever  deny  that  such  is  the  case ;  but  when  he 
has  conceded  to  them  the  knowledge  of  things,  since 
they  are  willing  to  exhaust  their  labors  on  that  alone, 
he  will  assume  to  himself  the  treatment  of  oratoiy, 
which  without  that  knowledge  is  nothing.  For  the 
proper  concern  of  an  orator,  as  I  have  already  often 
said,  is  language  of  power  and  elegance  accommodated 
to  the  feelings  and  understandings  of  mankind. 

6.  Nor  does  anything  seem  to  me  more  noble  than 
to  be  able  to  fix  the  attention  of  assemblies  of  men 


Chap.  1.]  THS    STUDY    OF   ELOQUENCE.  13 

by  speaking,  to  fascinate  their  minds,  to  direct  their 
passions  to  whatever  object  the  orator  pleases,  and  to 
dissuade  them  from  whatever  he  desires.  This  partic- 
ular art  has  constantly  flourished  above  all  others  in 
every  free  state,  and  especially  in  those  which  have 
enjoyed  peace  and  tranquillity,  and  has  ever  e'xercised 
great  power. 

7.  For  what  is  so  admirable  as  that,  out  of  an  in- 
finite multitude  of  men,  there  should  arise  a  single 
individual  who  can  alone,  or  with  only  a  few  others, 
exert  effectually  that  power  which  nature  has  granted 
to  all  ?  Or  what  is  so  pleasant  to  be  heard  and  under- 
stood as  an  oration  adorned  and  polished  with  wise 
thoughts  and  weighty  expressions?  , 

8.  Or  what  is  so  striking,  so  astonishing,  as  that  the  >,  -' 
tumults  of  the  people,  the  religious  feelings  of  judges,      '-.t^ 
the  gravity  of  the  senate,  should  be  swayed  by  the       '      ^ 
speech  of  one  man  ?     Or  what,  moreover,  is  so  kingly, 

so  liberal,  so  munificent,  as  to  give  assistance  to  the 
suppliant,  to  raise  the  afflicted,  to  bestow  security,  to 
deliver  from  danger,  to  maintain  men  in  the  rights  of 
citizenship  ? 

9.  What,  also,  is  so  necessary  as  to  keep  arms 
always  ready,  with  which  you  may  either  be  protected 
yourself,  or  defy  the  malicious,  or  avenge  yourself 
when  provoked?  Or  consider  (that  you  may  not 
always  contemplate  the  forum,  the  benches,  the  rostra, 
:ind  the  senate)  what  can  be  more  delightful  in  leisure, 

)r  more  suited  to  social  intercourse,  than  elegant  con- 


14  THE    SIXTEEN   PEKFECTIVE   LAWS    OF    ART.        [VoLL 

versation,  betraying  no  want  of  intelligence  on  any 
subject  ? 

10.  For  it  is  by  this  one  gift  that  we  are  most 
distinguished  from  brute  animals,  that  we  converse 
together,  and  can  express  our  thoughts  by  speech. 
Who,  therefore,  would  not  justly  make  this  an  object 
of  admiration,  and  think  it  worthy  of  his  utmost  exer- 
tions, to  surpass  mankind  themselves  in  that  single 
excellence  by  which  they  claim  their  superiority  over 
brutes  ?  But,  that  we  may  notice  the  most  important 
point  of  all,  what  other  power  could  either  have 
assembled  mankind,  when  dispersed,  into  one  place, 
or  have  brought  them  from  wild  and  savage  life  to 
the  present  humane  and  civilized  state  of  society;  or, 
when  cities  were  established,  have  described  for  them 
laws,  judicial  institutions,  and  rights  ? 

11.  And  that  I  may  not  mention  more  examples, 
which  are  almost  without  number,  I  will  conclude  the 
subject  in  one  short  sentence ;  for  I  consider,  that  by 
the  judgment  and  wisdom  of  the  perfect  orator,  not 
only  his  own  honor,  but  that  of  many  other  individuals, 
and  the  welfare  of  the  whole  state,  are  principally 
upheld.  Go  on,  therefore,  as  you  are  doing,  young 
men,  and  apply  earnestly  to  the  study  in  which  you 
are  engaged,  that  you  may  be  an  honor  to  yourselves, 
an  advantage  to  your  friends,  and  a  benefit  to  the 
Republic. 

ClCBBO. 


Ciiap.  1.]  HONOB    TO    AMERICAN    PATBIOTS.  15 


HONOR   TO   AMERICAN    PATRIOTS. 

1.  The  eulogium  pronounced  on  the  character  of 
the  State  of  South  Carolina  by  the  honorable  gentle- 
man, for  her  Revolutionary  and  other  merits,  meets  my 
hearty  concurrence.  I  shall  not  acknowledge  that  the 
honorable  member  goes  before  me  in  regard  for  what- 
ever of  distinguished  talent  or  distinguished  character 
South  Carolina  has  produced.  // 1  claim  part  of  the 
honor,  I  partake  in  the  pride  of-  her  great  nameo.  I 
claim  them  for  countrj-men,  one  and  aU ;  the  Laurenses, 
the  Rutledges,  the  Pinckneys,  the  Sumpters,  the 
Marions,  Americans  all,  whose  fame  is  no  more  to  be 
hemmed  in  by  State  lines,  than  their  talents  and 
patriotism  were  capable  of  being  circumscribed  within 
the  same  narrow  Hmits.  In  their  day  and  generation 
they  served  and  honored  the  country,  and  the  whole 
country;  and  their  renown  is  of  the  treasures  of  the 
whole  country. 

9^  Him  whose  honored  name  the  gentleman  himself 
^  bears,  —  does  he  esteem  me  less  capable  of  gratitude 
for  his  patriotism,  or  sympathy  for  his  sufferings,  than 
if  his  eyes  had  first  opened  upon  the  light  of  Massa- 
chusetts, instead  of  South  Carolina?  vSir,  does  he 
suppose  it  in  his  power  to  exhibit  a  Carolina  name 
80  bright  as  to  produce  envy  in  my  bosom  ?  No,  sir ; 
increased  gratification  and  deliglit,  rather.  I  thank 
God  that,  if  1  ura  gifted  with  little  of  the  spirit  which 


16  THK    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    ART.         [Vol.  L 

is  able  to  raise  mortals  to  the  skies,  I  have  yet  none, 
as  I  trust,  of  that  other  spirit  which  would  drag  angels 
down. 

3.  When  I  shall  be  found.  Sir,  in  my  place  here  in 
the  Senate,  or  elsewhere,  to  sneer  at  public  merit  be- 
cause it  happens  to  spring  up  beyond  the  little  limits 
of  my  own  State  or  neighborhood;  when  I  refuse, 
for  any  such  cause,  or  for  any  cause,  the  homage  due 
to  American  talent,  to  elevated  patriotism,  to  sincere 
devotion  to  liberty  and  the  country;  or,  if  I  see  an 
uncommon  endowment  of  Heaven,  if  I  see  extraordi- 
nary capacity  and  virtue  in  any  son  of  the  South,  and 
if,  moved  by  local  prejudice  or  gangrened  by  State 
jealousy,  I  get  up  here  to  abate  the  tithe  of  a  hair  from 
his  just  character  and  just  fame,  may  my  tongue  cleave 
to  the  roof  of  my  mouth ! 

4.  Sir,  let  me  recur  to  pleasing  recollections ;  let  me 
indulge  in  refreshing  remembrance  of  the  past ;  let 
me  remind  you  that,  in  early  times,  no  States  cherished 
greater  harmony,  both  of  principle  and  feeling,  than 
Massachusetts  and  South  Carolina.  Would  to  God 
that  harmony  might  again  return !  Shoulder  to 
shoulder  they  went  through  the  Revolution ;  hand 
in  hand  they  stood  round  the  administration  of  Wash- 
ington, and  felt  his  own  great  arm  lean  on  them  for 
support.  Unkind  feeling,  if  it  exists,  alienation  and 
distrust,  are  the  growth,  unnatural  to  such  soils,  of 
false  principles  since  sown.  They  are  weeds,  the  seeds 
of  which  that  same  great  arm  never  scattered. 


Chap.  1.^  HONOR    TO    AMERICAX    PATRIOTS.  17 

5.  iMr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium 
upon  Massachusetts  ;  she  needs  none.  There  she  is : 
behold  her,  and  judge  for  yourselves.  There  is  her 
history ;  the  world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at 
least,  is  secure.  There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and 
Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill ;  and  there  they  will 
remain  forever.  The  bones  of  her  sons,  falling  in  the 
great  struggle  for  Independence,  now  lie  mingled  with 
the  soil  of  every  State  from  New  England  to  Georgia ; 
and  there  they  will  lie  forever.  And,  Sir,  where 
American  Liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and  where  its 
youth  was.  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it  still  lives, 
in  the  strength  of  its  manhood  and  full  of  its  original 
spirit. 

6.  If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it ;  if  party 
strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at  and  tear  it: 
if  folly  and  madness,  if  uneasiness  under  salutary  and 
necessary  restraint,  shall  succeed  in  separating  it  from 
that  Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made  sure ; 
it  will  stand,  in  the  end,  by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in 
which  its  infancy  was  rocked  ;  it  Avill  stretch  forth  its 
arm,  with  whatever  of  vigor  it  may  still  retain,  over 
the  friends  who  gather  round  it;  and  it  will  fall  at 
last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst  the  proudest  monuments 
of  its  own  glory,  and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin. 

Daniel  Webstek. 


18  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ABT.        (Vol.  L 


CHARLES  SUMNER. 

1.  There  was  in  Charles  Sumner,  as  a  public 
man,  a  peculiar  power  of  fascination.  It  acted  much 
through  his  eloquence,  but  not  through  his  eloquence 
alone.  There  was  still  another  source  from  which  that 
fascination  sprang.  Behind  all  he  said  and  did  there 
stood  a  grand  manhood,  which  never  failed  to  make 
itself  felt.  What  a  figure  he  was,  with  his  tall  and 
stalwart  frame,  his  manly  face,  topped  with  his  shaggy 
locks,  his  noble  bearing,  the  finest  type  of  American 
senatorship,  the  tallest  oak  of  the  forest ! 

2.  And  how  small  they  appear  by  his  side,  the 
common  run  of  politicians,  who  spend  their  days  with 
the  laying  of  pipe,  and  the  setting  up  of  pins,  and  the 
pulling  of  wires ;  who  barter  an  office  to  secure  this 
vote,  and  procure  a  contract  to  get  that;  who  stand 
always  with  their  ears  to  the  wind  to  hear  how  the 
Administration  sneezes,  and  what  their  constituents 
whisper,  in  mortal  trepidation  lest  they  fail  in  being 
all  things  to  everybody  ! 

3.  How  he  stood  among  them !  he  whose  very 
presence  made  you  forget  the  vulgarities  of  political 
life,  who  dared  to  differ  with  any  man  ever  so  power- 
ful, any  multitude  ever  so  numerous  ;  who  regarded 
party  as  nothing  but  a  means  for  higher  ends,  and 
for  those  ends  defied  its  power ;  to  whom  the  arts  of 
demagogism  were  so  contemptible  that  he  would  rather 


Chap.  l.J  virV     CHARLES    SUMNER.  19 


have  sunk  into  obscurity  and  oblivion  than  descend  to 
them  ;  to  whom  the  dignity  of  his  office  was  so  sacred 
that  he  would  not  even  ask  for  it  for  fear  of  darkening 
its  lustre ! 

4.  Honor  to  the  people  of  Massachusetts,  who,  for 
twenty-three  years,  kept  in  the  Senate,  and  would  have 
kept  him  there  longer,  had  he  lived,  a  man  who  never, 
even  to  them,  conceded  a  single  iota  of  his  convic- 
tions in  order  to  remain  there. 

5.  And  what  a  life  was  his !  a  life  so  wholly  devoted 
to  what  was  good  and  noble !  There  he  stood  in  the 
midst  of  the  grasping  materialism  of  our  times,  around 
him  the  eager  chase  for  the  almighty  dollar,  no  thought 
of  opportunity  ever  entering  the  smallest  corner  of  his 
mind,  and  disturbing  his  high  endeavors  ;  with  a  virtue 
which  the  possession  of  power  could  not  even  tempt, 
much  less  debauch ;  from  whose  presence  the  very 
thought  of  corruption  instinctively  shrank  back;  a 
life  so  unspotted,  an  integrity  so  intact,  a  character 
so  high,  that  the  most  daring  eagerness  of  calumny, 
the  most  wanton  audacity  of  insinuation,  standing  on 
tip-toe,  could  not  touch  the  soles  of  his  shoes. 

6.  They  say  that  he  indulged  in  overweening  self- 
appreciation.  Ay,  he  did  have  a  magnificent  pride,  a 
lofty  self-esteem.  Why  should  he  not  ?  Let  wretches 
despise  themselves,  for  they  have  good  reason  to  do 
so ;  not  he.  But  in  his  self-esteem  there  was  nothing 
small  and  mean  ;  no  man  lived  to  whose  very  nature 
envy  and  petty  jealousy  were  more  foreign.     His  pride 


20  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.1. 

of  self  was  like  his  pride  of  country.  He  was  the 
proudest  American  ;  he  was  the  proudest  New  Eng- 
lander;  and  yet  he  was  the  most  cosmopolitan 
American  we  have  ever  seen. 

7.  He  is  at  rest  now,  the  stalwart,  brave  old  cham- 
pion, whose  face  and  bearing  were  so  austere,  and 
whose  heart  was  so  full  of  tenderness ;  who  began  his 
career  with  a  pathetic  plea  for  universal  peace  and 
charity,  and  whose  whole  life  was  an  arduous,  inces- 
sant, never-resting  struggle,  which  left  him  all  covered 
with  scars.  And  we  can  do  nothing  for  him  but 
remember  his  lofty  ideals  of  liberty,  and  equality,  and 
justice,  and  reconciliation,  and  purity,  and  the  earnest- 
ness, and  courage,  and  touching  fidelity  with  which 
he  fought  for  them  —  so  genuine  in  his  sincerity,  so 
single-minded  in  his  zeal,  so  heroic  in  his  devotion. 

8.  People  of  Massachusetts  I  He  was  the  son  of 
your  soil,  in  which  he  now  sleeps  ;  but  he  is  not  all 
your  own.  He  belongs  to  all  of  us  in  the  North  and 
in  the  South.  Over  the  grave  of  him  whom  so  many 
thought  to  be  their  enemy,  and  found  to  be  their 
friend,  let  the  hands  be  clasped  which  so  bitterly 
warred  against  each  other.  Let  the  youth  of  America 
be  taught,  by  the  story  of  his  life,  that  not  only 
genius,  power,  and  success,  but  more  than  these, 
patriotic  devotion  and  virtue,  make  the  greatness  of 
the  citizen. 

9.  If  this  lesson  be  understood,  more  than  Charles 
Sumner's  living  word  could  have  done  for  the  glory 


Chap.  1.]  LUCIUS   JUNIUS    BRUTUS'    ORATION.  21 

of  America,  will  be  done  by  the  inspiration  of  his 
great  example.  And  it  will  truly  be  said,  that  al- 
though his  body  lies  mouldering  in  the  earth,  yet  in  the 
assured  rights  of  all,  in  the  brotherhood  of  a  reunited 
people,  and  in  a  purified  Republic,  he  still  lives,  and 
will  live  forever. 

Carl  Schubz. 


LUCIUS  JUNIUS  BRUTUS'  ORATION  OVER  THE 
BODY  OF  LUCRETIA. 

I. 

Would  you  know  why  I  have  summoned  you  together: 

Ask  ye  what  brings  me  here  ?     Behold  this  dagger, 

Clotted  with  gore !    Behold  that  frozen  corse ! 

See  where  the  lost  Lucretia  sleeps  in  death ! 

She  was  the  mark  and  model  of  the  time, 

The  mould  in  which  each  female  face  was  formed, 

The  very  shi-ine  and  sacristy  of  virtue ! 

Fairer  than-ever  was  a  form  created 

By  youthful  fancy  when  the  blood  strays  wild, 

And  never-resting  thought  is  all  on  fire  ! 

The  worthiest  of  the  worthy  !     Not  the  nymph 

Who  met  old  Numa  in  his  hallowed  walks, 

And  whispered  in  his  ear  her  strains  divine, 

Can  I  conceive  beyond  her;  —  the  young  choir 

Of  vestal  virgins  bent  to  her. 


22  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  L 

II. 

'Tis  wonderful 
Amid  the  darnel,  hemlock  and  the  base  weeds, 
Which  now  spring  rife  from  the  luxurious  compost 
Spread  o'er  the  realm,  how  this  sweet  lily  rose  — 
How  from  the  shade  of  those  ill-neighboring  plants 
Iler  father  sheltered  her,  that  not  a  leaf 
Was  blighted,  but,  arrayed  in  purest  grace, 
She  bloomed  unsullied  beauty. 

in. 

Such  perfections 
Might  have  called  back  the  torpid  breast  of  age 
To  long-forgotten  rapture ;  such  a  mind 
Might  have  abashed  the  boldest  libertine 
And  turned  desire  to  reverential  love 
And  holiest  affection ! 

IV. 

O  my  countrymen  I 
You  all  can  witness  when  that  she  went  forth 
It  was  a  holiday  in  Rome  ;  old  age 
Forgot  its  crutch,  labor  its  task  —  all  ran, 
And  mothers,  turning  to  tlieir  daughters,  cried 
"  There,  there 's  Lucretia ! "  Now  look  ye  where  she  lies ! 
That  beauteous  flower,  that  innocent,  sweet  rose. 
Torn  up  by  ruthless  violence  —  gone !  gone  !  gone ! 

▼. 

Say,  would  you  seek  instruction !  would  ye  ask 
What  ye  should  do  ?    Ask  ye  yon  conscious  walls 


Chap.  1.]  LUCIUS   JUNIUS    BRUTUS'   ORATION.  23 

Which  saw  his  poisoned  brother  — 
Ask  yon  deserted  street,  where  Tullia  drove 
O'er  her  dead  father's  corse,  'twill  cry,  revenge! 
Ask  yonder  senate-house,  whose  stones  are  purple 
With  human  blood,  and  it  will  cry,  revenge  ! 

VI. 

Go  to  the  tomb  where  lies  his  murdered  wife, 
And  the  poor  queen,  who  loved  him  as  her  son. 
Their  unappeased  ghosts  wall  shriek,  revenge ! 
The  temples  of  the  gods,  the  all-viewing  heavens, 
The  gods  themselves,  shall  justify  the  cry. 
And  swell  the  general  sound,  revenge  I  revenge ! 

VII. 

And  we  will  be  revenged,  my  countrymen, 

Brutus  shall  lead  you  on ;  Brutus,  a  name 

Which  will,  when  you're  revenged,  be  dearer  to  him 

Than  all  the  noblest  titles  earth  can  boast. 

Brutus,  your  king  I  —  No,  fellow-citizens ! 

If  mad  ambition  in  this  guilty  frame 

Had  strung  one  kingly  fibre,  yea,  but  one  — 

By  all  the  gods,  this  dagger  which  I  hold 

Should  rip  it  out,  though  it  entwined  my  heart. 

VIII. 

Now  take  the  body  up.     Bear  it  before  us 

To  Tarquin's  palace ;  there  we'll  light  our  torches, 

And  in  the  blazing  conflagration  rear 

A  pile,  for  these  chaste  relics,  that  shall  send 

Her  soul  amongst  the  stars.     On  I  Brutus  leads  you ! 

John  Howard  Paynk. 


24  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF   ART.        [VoM. 


LITERARY  ATTRACTIONS  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

1.  God  made  the  present  earth  as  the  home  of  man ; 
but  had  He  meant  it  as  a  mere  lodging,  a  world  less 
beautiful  would  have  served  the  purpose.  There  was 
no  need  for  the  carpet  of  verdure,  or  the  ceiling  of 
blue ;  no  need  for  the  mountains,  and  cataracts,  and 
forests;  no  need  for  the  rainbow,  no  need  for  the 
flowers.  A  big,  round  island,  half  of  it  arable,  and 
half  of  it  pasture,  with  a  clump  of  trees  in  one  corner, 
and  a  magazine  of  fuel  in  another,  might  have  held 
and  fed  ten  millions  of  people  ;  and  a  hundred  islands, 
all  made  in  the  same  pattern,  big  and  round,  might 
have  held  and  fed  the  population  of  the  globe. 

2.  But  man  is  something  more  than  the  animal  which 
wants  lodging  and  food.  He  has  a  spiritual  nature, 
full  of  keen  perceptions  and  deep  sympathies.  He 
has  an  eye  for  the  sublime  and  the  beautiful,  and  his 
kind  Creator  has  provided  man's  abode  with  affluent 
materials  for  the  nobler  tastes.  He  has  built  Mont 
Blanc,  and  molten  the  lake  in  which  its  image  sleeps. 
He  has  intoned  Niagara's  thunder,  and  has  breathed 
the  zephyr  which  sweeps  its  spray.  He  has  shagged 
the  steep  with  its  cedars,  and  besprent  the  meadow 
with  its  king-cups  and  daisies.  He  has  made  it  a 
world  of  fragrance  and  music,  —  a  world  of  brightness 
and  symmetry, — a  world  where  the  grand   and   the 


Chap.  1.]        LITERARY    ATTRACTIONS    OF    THE    BIBLE.  25 

graceful,  the  awful  and  lovely,  rejoice  together.  In 
fashioning  the  Home  of  Man,  the  Creator  had  an 
eye  to  something  more  than  convenience,  and  built, 
not  a  barrack,  but  a  palace,  —  not  a  Union-work -house, 
but  an  Alhambra ;  something  which  should  not  only 
be  very  comfortable,  but  very  splendid  and  very  fair ; 
something  which  should  inspire  the  soul  of  its  in- 
habitant, and  even  draw  forth  the  "  very  good "  of 
complacent  Deity. 

3.  God  also  made  the  Bible  as  the  guide  and  oracle  of 
man ;  but  had  He  meant  it  as  a  mere  lesson-book  of 
duty,  a  volume  less  various  and  less  attractive  would 
have  answered  every  end.  But  in  giving  that  Bible, 
its  divine  Author  had  regard  to  the  mind  of  man. 
He  knew  that  man  has  more  curiosity  than  piety,  more 
taste  than  sanctity ;  and  that  more  persons  are  anxious 
to  hear  some  new,  or  read  some  beauteous  thing,  than 
to  read  or  hear  about  God  and  the  great  salvation. 
He  knew  that  few  would  ever  ask,  What  must  I  do  to 
be  saved?  till  they  came  in  contact  with  the  Bible 
itself ;  and,  therefore.  He  made  the  Bible  not  only 
an  instructive  book,  but  an  attractive  one,  —  not  only 
true,  but  enticing.  He  fiUed  it  with  marvellous  inci- 
dent and  engaging  history  ;  with  sunny  pictures  from 
Old-World  scener}%  and  affecting  anecdotes  from  the 
patriarch  times.  He  replenished  it  with  stately  argu- 
ment and  thrilling  verse,  and  sprinkled  it  over  with 
sententious  wisdom  and  proverbial  pungency.  He 
made  it  a  book  of  lofty  thoughts  and  noble  images,  — 


26  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [VoL  I. 

a  book  of  heavenly  doctrine,  but  withal  of  earthly- 
adaptation.  In  preparing  a  guide  to  immortality, 
Infinite  Wisdom  gave,  not  a  dictionary,  nor  a  grammar, 
but  a  Bible  — a  book  which,  in  trying  to  reach  the 
heart  of  man,  should  captivate  his  taste  ;  and  which, 
in  transforming  his  affections,  should  also  expand^., 
his  intellect.  The  pearl  is  of  great  price  ;  but  even 
the  casket  is  of  exquisite  beauty.  The  sword  is  of 
ethereal  temper,  and  nothing  cuts  so  keen  as  its  double 
edge  ;  but  there  are  jewels  on  the  hilt,  an  exquisite 
inlaying  on  the  scabbard.  The  shekels  are  of  the 
purest  ore  ;  but  even  the  scrip  which  contains  them  is 
of  a  texture  more  curious  than  any  which  the  artists 
of  earth  can  fashion.  The  apples  are  gold;  but  even 
the  basket  is  silver. 

4.  The  Bible  contains  no  ornamental  passages, 
nothing  written  for  mere  display ;  its  steadfast  pur- 
pose is,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,"  and  the  truest 
blessedness  of  man ;  it  abounds  in  passages  of  the 
purest  beauty  and  stateliest  grandeur,  all  the  grander 
and  all  the  more  beautiful  because  they  are  casual  and 
unsought.  The  fire  which  flashes  from  the  iron  hoof 
of  the  tartar  steed  as  he  scours  the  midnight  path  is 
grander  than  the  artificial  fu-ework ;  for  it  is  the  casual 
effect  of  speed  and  power.  The  clang  of  ocean  as  he 
booms  his  billows  on  the  rock,  dnd  the  echoing  caves 
give  chorus,  is  more  soul-filling  and  sublime  than  all 
the  music  of  the  orchestra,  for  it  is  the  music  of  that 
main  so  mighty  that  there  is  a  grandeur  in  all  it  does, — 


Chap.  1.]  MUSIC    IN    NATUKE.  27 

in  its  sleep  a  melody,  and  in  its  march  a  stately  psalm. 
And  in  the  bow  which  paints  the  melting  cloud  there 
is  a  beauty  which  the  stained  glass  or  gorgeous  drapery 
emulates  in  vain  ;  for  it  is  the  glory  which  gilds  benefi- 
cence, the  brightness  which  bespeaks  a  double  boon, 
the  flush  which  cannot  but  come  forth  when  both  the 
sun  and  shower  are  there.  The  style  of  Scripture  has 
all  this  glory.  It  has  the  gracefulness  of  a  high 
utility ;  it  has  the  majesty  of  intrinsic  power ;  it  has 
the  charm  of  its  own  sanctity  :  it  never  labors,  never 
strives,  but,  instinct  with  great  realities  and  bent  on 
blessed  ends,  it  has  all  the  translucent  beauty  and  un- 
studied power  which  you  might  expect  from  its  lofty 

object  and  all-wise  Author. 

De.  Ha]viilton. 


MUSIC  IN  NATURE. 

1.  A  MODERN  English  writer  says,  "  There  is  no 
music  in  Nature,  neither  melody  nor  harmony."  "  No 
music  in  Nature  "  !  The  very  mice  sing ;  the  toads, 
too  ;  and  the  frogs  make  "  music  on  the  waters."  The 
summer  grass  about  our  feet  is  alive  with  little 
musicians.  Even  inanimate  things  have  their  music. 
Listen  to  the  water  dropping  from  a  faucet  into  a 
bucket  partially  filled. 

2.  I  have  been  delighted  with  the  music  of  a  door  as 


28  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ABT.        [Vol.  I. 

it  swung  lazily  on  its  hinges,  giving  out  charming  tones 
resembling  those  of  a  bugle  in  the  distance,  forming 
pleasing  melodic  strains,  interwoven  with  graceful 
slides  and  artistic  touches  worthy  of  study  and  imita- 
tion. Awakened  by  the  fierce  wind  of  a  winter  night, 
I  have  heard  a  common  clothes-rack  whirl  out  a  wild 
melody  in  the  purest  intervals. 

.  3.  "  No  music  in  Nature " !  Surely  the  elements 
have  never  kept  silence  since  this  ball  was  set  swing- 
ing through  infinite  space  in  tune  with  the  music  of 
the  spheres.  Their  voices  were  ever  sounding  in  com- 
bative strains,  through  fire  and  flood,  from  the  equator 
to  the  poles,  innumerable  ages  before  the  monsters  of 
the  sea  and  earth  added  their  bello wings  to  the  chorus 
of  the  universe. 

4.  From  the  hugest  beast  down  to  the  smallest 
insect,  each  creature  with  its  own  peculiar  power  of 
sound,  we  come,  in  their  proper  place,  upon  the  birds, 
not  in  their  present  dress  of  dazzling  beauty,  and 
singing  their  matchless  songs,  but  with  immense  and 
uncouth  bodies  perched  on  two  long,  striding  legs, 
with  voices  to  match  those  of  many  waters  and  the 
roar  of  the  tempest. 

5.  We  know  that  in  those  monstrous  forms  were 
hidden  the  springs  of  sweet  song  and  the  germs  of 
beautiful  plumage ;  but  who  can  form  any  idea  of  the 
slow  processes,  —  of  the  long,  long  periods  of  time  that 
Nature  has  taken  in  progressive  work  from  the  first 
rude  effort  up  to  the  present  perfection?     So  far  as 


Chap.  1.]  MUSIC    IX    NATURE.  29 

the  song  is  concerned,  the  hoarse  thunderings  of  the 
elements,  the  bellowings  of  the  monsters  of  both  land 
and  water,  the  voices  of  things  animate  and  inanimate, 
—  all  must  be  forced,  age  on  age,  through  her  grand 
music  crucible,  and  the  precious  essence  given  to  the 
birds. 

6.  Though  the  birds  expressed  themselves  vocally 
ages  before  there  were  human  ears  to  hear  them,  it 
is  hardly  to  be  supposed  that  their  early  singing  bore 
much  resemblance  to  the  bird  music  of  to-day.  It  is 
not  at  all  likely  that  on  some  fine  morning,  too  far 
back  for  reckoning,  the  world  was  suddenly  and  for 
the  first  time,  flooded  with  innumerable  bird  songs, 
and  that  ever  since,  bu-ds  have  sung  as  they  then  sang, 
and  as  they  sing  now. 

7.  There  were  no  reporters  to  tell  us  when  the  birds 
began  to  sing,  but  the  general  history  of  human  events 
chronicles  the  interest  with  which  birds  and  bird  sing- 
ing have  been  regarded  by  the  nations  of  the  past, 
leaving  us  to  infer  that  when  men  and  birds  became 
acquainted,  the  birds  were  already  singing. 

8.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  our  bird  music  is  a 
thing  of  growth,  and  of  very  slow  growth.  The  tall 
walkers  and  squawkers  having  gradually  acquired  the 
material  machinery  for  song,  and  the  spirit  of  song 
being  pent  up  within  them,  they  were  ultimately 
compelled  to  make  music,  to  sing. 

9.  Dare  we  hazard  a  few  ciude  conjectures  as  to  the 
details  of    this  growth  ?     After  the  "  flight  of   ages,' 


30  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

when  the  birds  had  emerged  from  the  state  of  mons- 
trosity, each  raw  singer  having  chanted  continuously 
his  individual  tonic,  there  came  a  time  when  they  must 
take  a  long  step  forward  and  enter  the  world  of  song. 
In  the  vast  multitude  of  feathered  creatures  there 
must  have  been  an  endless  variety  of  forms  and  sizes, 
and  a  proportionate  variety  in  the  pitch  and  quality  of 
their  voices. 

10.  Day  to  day,  year  to  year,  each  bird  had  heard 
his  fellows  squall,  squawk,  screech,  or  scream  their 
individual  tones,  till  in  due  time  he  detected  here  and 
there  in  the  tremendous  chorus  certain  tones  that  had 
a  special  affinity  for  his  own.  This  affinity,  strength- 
ened by  endless  repetitions,  at  last  made  an  exchange 
of  tones  natural  and  easy.  This  accomplished,  the 
bondage  of  monotony  and  chaos  was  broken  forever, 
and  progress  assured ;  the  first  strain  of  the  marvellous 
harmony  of  the  future  was  sounded,  the  song  of  the 
birds  was  begun.  One  can  almost  hear  those  rude, 
rising  geniuses  exercising  their  voices  with  increased 
fervor,  pushing  on  up  the  glad  way  of  liberty  and 
melody. 

11.  To  say  that  the  music  of  the  birds  is  similar  in 
structure  to  our  own,  is  not  to  say  that  they  use  no 
intervals  less  than  our  own.  They  do  this,  and  I  am 
well  aware  that  not  all  of  their  music  can  be  written. 
Many  of  their  rhythmical  and  melodic  performances 
are  difficult  of  comprehension,  to  say  nothing  of  com- 


Chap.  1.]  MUSIC   IN   NATURE.  31 

mitting  them  to  paper.     The  song  of  the  bobolink  is 
an  instance  in  point. 

12.  Indeed,  one  cannot  listen  to  any  singing-bird 
without  hearing  something  inimitable  and  indescrib- 
able. Who  shall  attempt  a  description  of  the  tremolo 
in  the  song  of  the  meadow  lark,  the  graceful  shading 
and  sliding  of  the  tones  of  the  thrushes  ?  But  these 
ornaments,  be  they  never  so  profuse,  are  not  the  sum 
and  substance  of  bird-songs ;  and  it  is  in  the  solid  body 
of  the  song  that  we  find  the  relationship  to  our  own 
music. 

13.  The  songs  of  many  of  the  birds  may  be  detected 
as  readily  as  the  melodies  of  "  Ortonville,"  and  "•  Rock 
of  Ages."  In  passing,  one  morning  last  summer,  I  heard 
a  chewink  sing  the  first  strain  of  the  beautiful  old  con- 
ference-meeting tune  last  named.  Though  I  have 
never  heard  any  other  chewink  sing  that  strain,  it  was 
a  chewink  that  sang  then,  affording  startling  proof  of 
the  variation  in  the  singing  of  the  same  birds. 

14.  The  chickadees  sing  a  few  long  tones  in  the 
most  deliberate  manner ;  and  nothing  this  side  of 
heaven  is  purer.  I  do  not  refer  to  their  chick-a-dee-dee- 
dee  chat,  though  they  sometimes  connect  that  with 
their  singing.  The  chickadee  and  the  wood-pewee 
have  the  most  devout  of  all  the  bird-songs  I  liave 
heard. 

15.  Conjecture  as  we  may  concerning  the  growth 
and  development  of  birds  and  bird-songs,  we  know 
that  the  birds  now  sing  in  a  wonderful  manner,  using 


32  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  1 

all  the  intervals  of  the  major  and  minor  scales  in 
perfection  of  intonation,  with  a  purity  of  voice  and 
finish  of  execuiion,  with  an  exquisiteness  of  melody, 
a  magnetic  and  spiritual  charm  appurtenant  to  no 
other  music  on  earth. 

16.  The  horse  neighs,  the  lion  roars,  the  tiger 
growls, —  the  world  is  full  of  vocal  sounds  ;  only  the 
birds  sing.  They  are  Nature's  finest  artists,  whose 
lives  and  works  are  above  the  earth.  They  have  not 
learned  of  us ;  it  is  our  delight  to  learn  of  them.  To 
no  other  living  things  are  man's  mind  and  heart  so 
greatly  indebted. 

17.  Myriads  of  these  beautiful  creatures,  journeying 
thousands  of  miles  over  oceans  and  continents,  much 
of  the  way  by  night  —  to  avoid  murderers  !  —  return, 
unfailing  as  the  spring,  prompt  even  to  the  day  and 
hour,  to  build  their  cunning  nests  and  rear  their  young 
in  our  orchards  and  dooryards,  to  delight  us  with  their 
beauty  and  grace  of  movement,  and  above,  far  above 
all,  to  pour  over  the  world  the  glory  of  their  song. 
He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear. 

Simeon  Pease  Cheney. 


KEY   TO   CHAPTER   SECOND. 

PROGRESSIVENESS. 

Every  good  piece  of  literary  composition  is  like  a 
river  in  its  flow.  The  stream  deepens  as  it  moves 
onward,  and  it  deepens  in  just  the  ratio  of  the  number 
and  size  of  its  tributaries.  So  is  it  with  good  litera- 
ture ;  as  the  theme  continues,  it  is  enriched  by  new 
and  added  thoughts.  As  the  speaker  proceeds,  and 
new  thoughts  and  illustrations  enter  the  mind,  the 
expression  deepens. 

All  progress  is  inward.  Progress  in  speaking.  is_  Jiot 
always  shown  by  increased  emphasis  or  a  louder  voice ; 
nor  by  higher  pitch,  or  more  rapid  utterance  ;  nor  by 
lower  pitch  and  graver  tones.  These  and  other  forms 
of  speech  will  appear,  as  the  thought  varies  in  its 
onward  course ;  but  all  the  forms  of  expression  that 
appear  to  the  senses  in  true  progressiveness,  arise  from 
the  fact  that  each  added  thought  is  contemplated, 
either  consciously  or  unconsciously,  on  the  part  of  the 
speaker,  in  the  light  ol  all  the  thoughts  that  Jiaye 
preceded  it. 


34  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ABT.         [Vol.  I. 

A  brief  illustration  may  be  taken  from  the  Old 
Clock,  by  Longfellow. 

Without  progressiveness  each  line  will  be  but  a 
repetition,  in  manner  of  expression,  of  all  the  other 
lines.  I  will  mark  a  stanza  for  inflection  of  voice, 
and  thereby  show  how  change  of  pitch  alone  may 
manifest  progressiveness.  Then  take  into  considera- 
tion that  a  great  number  of  changes  of  voice  can  take 
place  by  which  to  express  progressiveness,  such  as 
volume,  force,  quality  and  form,  with  their  numberless 
combinations,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  the  resources  of 
a  trained  voice  and  mind  for  manifesting  progressive- 
ness of  thought  are  measureless. 

Somewhat  back  from  the  village  street 
Stands  the  old-fashioned  cotintry  seat. 
Across  its  antique  portico 
Tall  poplar  trees  their  shadows  throw, 
And  from  its  station  in  the  hall 
An  ancient  time-piece  says  to  all : 
"  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever !  " 

One  may  easily  get  at  my  meaning  if  he  will  simply, 
after  each  successive  falling  inflection  which  I  have 
marked,  allow  the  voice  to  continue  on  a  somewhat 
lower  pitch,  and  notice  the  effect.  He  will  perceive 
an  increase  of  impressiveness.  Then  contrast  it  with 
bringing  the  voice  back  to  the  same  pitch  after  each 
inflection.     By  the  latter  practice  he  will   discover  a 


KEY    TO    CHAPTER    II.  35 

slight  "  sing-song  "  or  chanting  effect  in  the  voice.  In 
this  manner  each  statement  is  given  just  like  the  pre- 
vious one,  and  consequently  no  progress  is  made. 

I  would  not  guide  expression  by  inflections,  for 
that  would  make  a  very  mechanical  speaker.  Thought 
should  guide  inflection,  but  inflection  should  not  over- 
rule thought.  Nevertheless,  even  by  mechanics  one 
is  enabled  to  perceive  an  illustration  of  the  principle 
of  progressiveness. 

The  thought  of  the  "  country  seat  "  is  contained  in 
the  first  statement,  then  the  poplar-tree  casting  its 
shadow  on  the  portico  is  viewed  in  the  light  of  the 
country  seat,  from  which  it  derives  character  and  con- 
sequently added  color  of  expression.  The  clock  in  the 
hall  conveys  an  idea  in  itself,  but  this  idea  is  enriched 
by  all  that  has  been  said  before ;  hence,  "  ancient  time- 
piece "  is  the  most  impressive  of  all  the  expressions 
thus  far.  There  would  be  some  value  in  the  thought 
of  an  ancient  time-piece  when  taken  by  itself  alone,  but 
it  would  be  little  if  it  were  not  associated  in  the  mind 
with  the  country  seat  and  its  belongings,  from  which 
it  derives  its  great  importance.  The  thought  in  the 
expression  "  ancient  time-piece  "  is  deeper  than  it  is 
in  the  previous  statements  because  it  contains  what 
has  been  expressed  in  them  in  addition  to  its  own  in- 
trinsic /alue. 


f  i  'juy-^l-^' 


—  I  i  ]AM^ 


>K^ 


"l^ 


CHAPTER  IX. 


PROGRESSIVENESS. 

They  shall  mount  up  loith  wings  as  eagles  ;  they  shall  runt  o,nd  not  66 
toeary ;  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint.  —  Isaiah. 


THE   CATARACT  OF  LODORE. 

1. 

"  How  does  the  water  ^ 

Come  down  at  Lodore  ?  " 
Mv  little  boy  asked  me 

Thus,  once  on  a  time ; 
And,  moreover,  he  tasked  me 

To  tell  him  in  rhyme. 

ir. 

Anon  at  the  word,  y 

There  first  came  one  daughter, 

And  then  came  another, 
To  second  and  third 

The  request  of  their  brother, 
And  to  hear  how  the  water 
Comes  down  at  Lodore, 
With  its  rush  and  its  roar, 

As  many  a  time 
They  had  seen  it  before. 

"      4  C)  7  f)  r. 


8S  THE   SIXTEEN   PERFECTIVE    LAWS   OP   ART.       IVoL  L 

III. 

3o  I  told  them  in  rhyme  — •  -a^. 

For  of  rhymes  I  had  store ; 

And  'twas  my  vocation 

For  their  recreation 
That  so  I  should  sing ; 

Because  I  was  Laureate 
To  them  and  the  king. 

IV. 

From  its  sources,  which  well 
In  the  tarn  on  the  fell ; 

From  its  fountains 

In  the  mountains, 
Its  rills  and  its  gills ; 
Through  moss  and  through  brake, 

It  runs  and  it  creeps 

For  a  while,  till  it  sleeps 
In  its  own  little  lake. 


V. 

And  thence,  at  departing, 

Awakening  and  starting, 

It  runs  through  the  reeds, 

And  away  it  proceeds, 

Through  meadow  and  glade, 

In  sun  and  in  shade, 

And  through  the  wood-shelter- 

Among  crags  in  its  flurry, 
Helter-skelter, 

Hurry-skurrv. 


Chap.  2.J  THE    CATARACT    OF    LODOBK.  39 

VI. 

Here  it  comes  sparkling,  / 
And  there  it  lies  darkling  ju^ 
Now  smoking  and  frothiugO 
In  tumult  and  wrath  in,  U 
Till,  in  this  rapid  race    1    ' 

On  which  it  is  bent. 
It  reaches  the  place  CL 

Of  its  steep  descent.  iJ 

VII. 

■^^    The  cataract  strong  ^ 

S    Then  plunges  along, 

*/    Striking  and  raging, 

y^  As  if  a  war  waging 
l-Jts  caverns  and  rocks  among; 

/      Rising  and  leaping, 

^    Sinking  and  creeping, 
^     Swelling  and  sweeping, 
JJ      Showering  and  springing, 

i     Flying  and  flinging, 
O       Writhing  and  ringing, 

VIII. 

^  Eddying  and  whisking, 

^  Spouting  and  frisking, 

.^  Turning  and  twisting, 

5-  Around  and  around 

■^  With  endless  rel)oun<l ; 


o 


49  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    AET.        £VoL  L 

yr  Smiting  and  fighting, 
^  A  sight  to  delight  in ; 
x^  Confounding,  astounding, 
O  Dizzying,  and  deafening  the  ear  with  its  sound. 

IX. 

Collecting,  projecting, 
Receding  and  speeding. 
And  shocking  and  rocking, 
And  darting  and  parting, 
And  threading  and  spreading, 
And  whizzing  and  hissing. 
And  dripping  and  skipping. 
And  hitting  and  splitting, 

X. 


O 


^i 


(    And  shining  and  twining, 
1^  And  rattling  and  battling, 
%  And  shaking  and  quaking, 
t<^  And  pouring  and  roaring, 
^,  And  waving  and  raving, 
^.And  tossing  and  crossing, 
7  And  flowing  and  going, 

XI. 

JL  '!    And  running  and  stunning, 
'^        And  foaming  and  roaming, 
Ai.J  dinning  and  spinning. 
And  dropping  and  hopping, 


Chap.  2.]  THE    CATARACT    OF    LODORE.  41 

CyfAnd  working  and  jerking, 
1   _And  guggling  and  struggling, 

V  And  heaving  and  cleaving, 
^     And  moaning  and  groaning, 

XII. 

O  And  glittering  and  frittering, 

V  And  gathering  and  feathering, 

ex  And  whitening  and  brightening, 
.  ^  And  quivering  and  shivering, 
^   And  hurrying  and  skurrying, 
-^  And  thundering  and  floundering  ; 

XIII. 

Dividing  and  gliding  and  sliding. 

And  falling  and  brawling  and  sprawling, 

And  driving  and  riving  and  striving, 

And  sprinkling  and  twinkling  and  wrinkling, 

And  sounding  and  bounding  and  rounding, 

And  bubbling  and  troubling  and  doubling. 

And  grumbling  and  rumbling  and  tumbling, 

And  chattering  and  battering  and  shattering ; 

XIV. 

Retreating  and  beating  and  meeting  and  sheeting,  / 
Delaying  and  straying  and  playing  and  spraying,  r 
Advancing  and  prancing  and  glancing  and  dancing, 
Recoiling,  tnnnoiling,  and  toiling  and  boiling, 
And  gleaming  and  streaming  and  steaming  and  beaming. 
And  rushing  and  flushing  and  brushing  and  gushing. 


42  THE    SIXTEEN    PEBFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [VoL  I. 

And  flapping  and  rapping  and  clapping  and  slapping, 
And  curling  and  whirling  and  purling  and  twirling, 
And  thumping  and  plumping  and  bumping  and  jumping, 
And  dashing  and  flashing  and  splashing  and  clashing ; 
And  so  never  ending,  but  always  descending, 
Sounds  and  motions  forever  and  ever  are  blending, 
All  at  once,  and  all  o'er,  with  a  mighty  uproar : 
And  this  way  the  water  comes  down  at  Lodore. 

ROBEBT    SOUTHEY. 


THE  DEATH  OF  COPERNICUS. 

1.  At  length  he  draws  near  his  end.  He  is  seventy- 
three  years  of  age,  and  he  yields  his  work  on  "The 
Revolutions  of  the  Heavenly  Orbs"  to  his  friends  for 
publication.  The  day  at  last  has  come  on  which  it  is 
to  be  ushered  into  the  world.  It  is  the  24th  of  May, 
1543. 

2.  On  that  day — the  effect,  no  doubt,  of  the  intense 
excitement  of  his  mind,  operating  upon  an  exhausted 
frame — an  effusion  of  blood  brings  him  to  the  gates  of 
the  grave.  His  last  hour  has  come ;  he  lies  stretched 
upon  the  couch  from  which  he  will  never  rise. 

3.  The  beams  of  the  setting  sun  glance  through  the 
Gothic  windows  of  his  chamber ;  near  his  bedside  is  the 


Chap.  3.]  THE    DEATH    OF    COPERNICUS.  43 

armillary  sphere  which  he  has  contrived  to  represent 
his  theory  of  the  heavens ;  his  picture  painted  by  him- 
self, the  amusement  of  his  earlier  years,  hangs  before 
him ;  beneath  it  are  his  astrolabe  and  other  imperfect 
astronomical  instruments  ;  and  around  him  are  gathered 
his  sorrowing  disciples. 

4.  The  door  of  the  apartment  opens ;  the  eye  of  the 
departing  sage  is  turned  to  see  who  enters :  it  is  a  friend 
who  brings  him  the  first  printed  copy  of  his  immortal 
treatise.  He  knows  that  in  that  book  he  contradicts 
all  that  has  ever  been  distinctly  taught  by  former 
philosophers ;  he  knows  that  he  has  rebelled  against 
the  sway  of  Ptolemy,  which  the  scientific  world  has 
acknowledged  for  a  thousand  years ;  he  knows  that 
the  popular  mind  will  be  shocked  by  his  innovations  ; 
he  knows  that  the  attempt  will  be  made  to  press  even 
religion  in  to  the  service  against  him ;  but  he  knows 
that  his  book  is  true. 

5.  He  is  dying,  but  he  leaves  a  glorious  truth  as  his 
dying  bequest  to  the  world.  He  bids  the  friend  who  has 
brought  it  place  himself  between  the  window  and  his 
bedside,  that  the  sun's  rays  may  fall  upon  the  precious 
volume,  and  he  may  behold  it  once  more  before  his  eye 
grows  dim.  lie  looks  upon  it,  takes  it  in  his  hands, 
presses  it  to  his  breast,  and  expires. 

6.  But  no,  he  is  not  wholly  gone.  A  smile  lights  up 
his  dying  countenance  ;  a  beam  of  returning  intelligence 
kindles  in  his  eye  ;  his  lips  move ;  and  the  friend  who 
leans    over    him,    can    hear    him    faintly   murmur    the 


44  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.1. 

beautiful    sentiments  which    the  Christian   lyrist  of  a 
later  age  has  so  finely  expressed  in  verse : 

"  Ye  golden  lamps  of  heaven,  farewell,  with  all  your  feeble 

light ; 
Farewell,  thou  ever-changing  moon,  pale  empress  of    the 

night ; 
And  thou,  effulgent  orb  of  day,  in  brighter  flames  arrayed. 
My    soul,    which    springs   beyond    thy    sphere,    no    more 

demands  thy  aid. 
Ye  stars  are  but  the  shining  dust  of  my  divine  abode, 
The  pavement  of  those  heavenly  courts  where  I  shall  reign 

with  God." 

So  died  the  great  Columbus  of  the  heavens. 

Edward  Everett. 


EXILE  OF  THE  ACADIANS. 

I. 

Pleasantly  rose  one  morn  the  sun  on  the  village  of  Grand- 

Pre. 
Pleasantly  gleamed  in  the  soft,  sweet  air  the  Basin  of  Minas, 
Where  the  ships,  with  their  wavering  shadows,  were  riding 

at  anchor. 
Life  had  long  been  astir  in  the  village,  and  clamorous  labor 
Knocked  with  its  hundred  hands  at  the  golden  gates  of  the 

morning. 


ClUp.  9.]  EXILK    OF    THE    ACADIANS.  45 

II. 

Now  from  the  couhtry  around,  from  the   farms  and   the 

neighboring  hamlets, 
Come  in  their  holiday  dresses  the  blithe  Acadian  peasants. 
Many  a  glad   good-morrow  and   jocund   laugh   from   the 

young  folk 
Made   the   bright  air  brighter,  as  up  from  the  numerous 

meadows 
Where  no  path  could  be  seen  but  the  track  of  wheels  in  the 

greensward, 
Group  after  group  appeared,  and  joined,  or  passed  on  the 

highway. 

in. 

Long   ere  noon,  in   the  village  all    sounds  of   labor  were 

silenced. 
Thronged  were  the  streets  with  people ;  and  noisy  groups 

at  the  house-doors 
Sat  in  the  cheerful  sun,  and  rejoiced  and  gossiped  together. 
Every  house  was  an  inn,  where  all   were  welcomed   and 

feasted ; 
For  with  this  simple  people,  who  lived  like  brothers  together. 
All  things  were  held  in  common,  and  what  one  had  was 

another's. 

IV. 

Under  the  open  sky,  iu  the  odorous  air  of  the  orchard, 
Bending  with  golden  fruit,  was  spread  the  feast  of  betrothal. 
There  in  the  shade  of  the  porch  were  the  priest  and  the 

notary  seated ; 
There  good  Benedict  sat,  and  sturdy  Basil,  the  blackamith. 


46  THE    SIXTEEN    PEKFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    AKT.        [Vol.  L 


Not  far  withdrawn  from  these,  by  the  cider-press  and  the 

bee-hives, 
Michael  the  fiddler  was  placed,  with  the  gayest  of  hearts 

and  of  waistcoats. 
Shadow  and  light  from  the  leaves  alternately  played  on 

his  snow-white 
Hair,  as  it  waved  in  the  wind  ;  and  the  jolly  face  of  the  fiddler 
Glowed  like  a  living  coal  when  the  ashes  are  blown  from 

the  embers. 

VI. 

Gayly  the  old  man  sang  to  the  vibrant  sound  of  his  fiddle. 
And  anon  with  his  wooden  shoes  beat  time  to  the  music. 
Merrily,  merrily  whirled  the  wheels  of  the  dizzying  dances 
Under    the    orchard-trees    and    down    the   path    to   the 

meadows ; 
Old  folk  and  young  together,  and  children  mingled  among 

them. 

VII. 

So  passed  the  morning  away.     And  lo !  with  a  summons 

sonorous 
Sounded  the  bell  from  its  tower,  and  over  the  meadows  a 

drum  beat. 
Thronged  ere  long  was  the  church  with  men.     Without,  in 

the  churchyard, 
Waited  the  women.     They  stood  by  the  graves  and  hung 

on  the  head-stones 
Garlands  of  autumn  leaves  and  evergreens  fresh  from  the 

forest. 


Chap.  2.)  EXILE    OF    THE    ACADIAXS.  47 

VIII. 

Then  came  the  guard  from  the  ships,  and  marching  proudly 
among  them 

Entered  the  sacred  portal.    With  loud  and  dissonant  clangor 

Echoed  the  sound  of  their  brazen  drums  from  ceiling  and 
casement, — 

Echoed  a  moment  only,  and  slowly  the  ponderous  portal 

Closed,  and  in  silence  the  crowd  awaited  the  will  of  the 
soldiers. 

Then  uprose  their  commander,  and  spake  from  the  steps  of 
the  alt.ir. 

Holding  aloft  in  his  hands,  with  its  seals,  the  royal  com- 
mission. 

IX. 

"  You  are  convened  this  day,"  he  said,  "  by  his  Majesty's 

orders. 
Clement   and    kind    has   he   been ;    but    how   you    have 

answered  his  kindness. 
Let  3'our  own  hearts  reply!     To  iny  natural  make  and  my 

temper 
Painful  the  task  is  I  do,  which  to  you  I    know  must  be 

grievous. 
Yet  must   I   bow  and  obey,  and    deliver  the  will  of  our 

monarch  ; 
Namely,  that  all  your  lands,  and  dwellings,  and  cattle  of 

all  kinds, 
Forfeited  be  to  the  crown  ;  and  tliat  you  yourselves  from 

this  province 
Be  transported  to  other  lauds.     God  grant  you  may  dwell 

there 


48  THB   SIXTEEN   PERFECTIVE   LAWS  OP   AET.       [Vol.1. 

Ever  as  faithful  subjects,  a  happy  and  peaceable  people ! 
Prisoners  now   I  declare  you  j  for  such  is  his  Majesty's 
pleasure  I " 


As,  when  the  air  is  serene  in  the  sultry  solstice  of  summer. 
Suddenly  gathers  a  storm,  and   the   deadly  sling   of   the 

hailstones 
Beats  down  the  farmer's  com  in  the  field  and  shatters  his 

windows, 
Hiding  the  sun,  and  strewing  the  ground  with  thatch  from 

the  house-roofs. 
Bellowing  fly  the  herds,  and  seek  to  break  their  enclosures ; 
So  on  the  hearts  of  the  people  descended  the  words  of  the 

speaker. 

Silent  a  moment  they  stood  in  speechless  wonder,  and  then 
rose 

Louder  and  ever  louder  a  wail  of  sorrow  and  anger, 

And,  by  one  impulse  moved,  they  madly  rushed  to  the 
doorway. 

Vain  was  the  hope  of  escape;  and  cries  and  fierce  im- 
precations 

Rang  through  the  house  of  prayer;  and  high  o'er  the 
heads  of  the  others 

Rose,  wath  his  arms  uplifted,  the  figure  of  Basil,  the 
blacksmith, 

As,  on  a  stormy  sea,  a  spar  is  tossed  by  the  billows. 


Chap.  S.J  BXILK    OP  THK    ACADIANS.  49 

XII. 

Flushed  was   his   face  and   distorted  with  passion;    and 

wildly  he  shouted, — 
"Down  with   the   tyrants  of    England!    we   never  have 

sworn  them  allegiance ! 
Death  to  these  foreiffn  soldiers,  who  seize  on  our  homes 

and  our  harvests !  " 
More  he  fain  would  have  said,  but  the  merciless  hand  of  a 

soldier 
Smote  him  upon  the  mouth,  and  dragged  him  down  to  the 

pavement. 

XIII. 

In  the  midst  of  the  strife  and  tumult  of  angry  contention, 
Lo !  the  door  of  the  chancel  opened,  and  Father  Felician 
Entered,  with  serious  mien,  and  ascended  the  steps  of  the 

altar, 
liaising  his  reverend  hand,  with  a  gesture  he  awed  into 

silence 
All  that  clamorous  throng ;  and  thus  he  spake  to  his  people  : 

XIV. 

"What  is  this  that  ye  do,  my  children?  what  madness  has 
seized  you  ? 

Forty  years  of  my  life  have  I  labored  among  you,  and 
taught  you, 

Not  in  word  alf)ne,  but  in  deed,  to  love  one  another ! 

Is  this  the  fruit  of  my  toils,  of  my  vigils  and  prayers  and 
privations? 

Have  you  so  soon  forgotten  all  lessons  of  love  and  forgive- 
ness ? 


60  THE    SIXTEEN   PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    ART.        [Tol.  L 

This  ia  the  house  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  would  you 

profane  it 
Thus   with  violent    deeds   and    hearts   ovei-flowing  with 

hatred?" 

XV. 

Few  were  his  words  of  rebuke,  but  deep  in  the  hearts  of 

his  people 
Sank  they,  and  sobs  of  contrition  succeeded  that  passionate 

outbreak ; 
And  they  repeated  his  prayer,  and  said,  "  O  Father,  forgive 

them!" 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 


THE  MUSICIANS. 

I. 

The  strings  of  my  heart  were  strung  by  Pleasure, 

And  I  laughed  when  the  music  fell  on  my  ear ; 
For  he  and  Mirth  played  a  joyful  measure. 

And  they  played  so  loud  that  I  could  not  hear 
The  wailing  and  mourning  of  souls  a- weary. 

The  strains  of  sorrow  that  sighed  around ; 
The  notes  of  my  heart  sang  blithe  and  cheery, 

And  I  heard  no  other  sound. 

II. 

Mirth  and  Pleasure,  the  music  brothers, 
Played  louder  and  louder  in  joyful  glee, 


Chap.  2.J  THE    MUSICIANS.  61 

But  sometimes  a  discord  was  heard  by  others, 
Though  only  the  rhythm  was  heard  by  me. 

Louder  and  louder  and  faster  and  faster, 

The  hands  of  those  brothers  played  strain  on  strain, 

Till,  all  of  a  sudden  a  mighty  master 
Swept  them  aside,  and  Pain, 

III. 
Pain,  the  musician,  the  soul  refiner, 

Restrung  the  strings  of  my  quivering  heart ; 
And  the  air  that  he  played  was  a  plaintive  minor. 

So  sad  that  the  tear-drops  were  forced  to  start. 
Each  note  was  an  echo  of  awful  anguish. 

As  shrill  as  solemn,  as  sad  as  slow, 
And  my  soul  for  a  season  seemed  to  languish 

And  faint  with  its  weight  of  woe. 

IV. 

With  skilfuLhands  that  were  never  weary, 

This  master  of  music  played  strain  on  strain  ; 
And  between  the  bars  of  the  miserere 

He  drew  up  the  strings  of  my  heart  again. 
And  I  was  filled  with  a  vague,  strange  wonder 

To  see  that  they  did  not  break  in  two ; 
"  They  are  drawn  so  tight  they  will  snaj)  asunder," 

I  thought,  but  instead  they  grew, 

v. 
In  the  hands  of  the  Master,  firmer  and  stronger, 

And  I  could  hear  on  the  stilly  air. 
Now  my  ears  were  deafened  by  mirth  no  longer. 

To  sounds  of  sorrow,  and  grief,  and  despair. 


52  THK    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.         [Vol.  L 

And  my  soul  grew  tender  and  kind  to  others; 

My  nature  grew  sweeter,  my  mind  grew  broad, 
And  I  held  all  men  to  be  my  brothers, 

Linked  by  the  chastening  rod. 

VI. 

My  soul  was  lifted  to  God  and  heaven, 

And  when  on  my  heart-strings  fell  again 
The  hands  of  Mirth  and  Pleasure,  even. 

There  was  no  discord  to  mar  the  strain. 
For  Pain,  the  musician,  the  soul  refiner. 

Attuned  the  strings  with  a  master  hand, 
And  whether  the  music  be  major  or  minor, 

It  is  always  sweet  and  grand. 


THE   STORY  OF    THE    CABLE. 

1.  There  is  a  faith  so  expansive  and  a  hope  so  elastic 
that  a  man  having  them  will  keep  on  believing  and 
hoping  till  all  danger  is  passed,  and  victory  is  sure. 
When  I  talk  across  an  ocean  three  thousand  miles, 
with  my  friends  on  the  other  side  of  it,  and  feel  that 
I  may  know  any  hour  of  the  day  if  all  goes  well  with 
them,  I  think  with  gratitude  of  the  immense  energy 
and  perseverance  of  that  one  man,  Cyrus  W.  Field, 
who  spent  so  many  years  of   his   life  in  perfecting  a 


Ch*p.  2]  THE  STORY  OF  THE  CABLE.  53 

communication  second  only  in  importance  to  the  dis- 
covery of  this  countiy. 

2.  The  stoiy  of  his  patient  striving  during  all  that 
stormy  period  is  one  of  the  noblest  records  of  American 
enterprise,  and  only  his  own  family  know  the  whole 
of  it.  It  was  a  long,  hard  struggle  !  Thirteen  years 
of  anxious  watching  and  ceaseless  toil  I  Think  what 
that  enthusiast  accomplished  by  his  untiring  energy. 
He  made  fifty  voyages  across  the  Atlantic,  and  when 
everything  looked  darkest  for  his  enterprise,  his  cour- 
age never  flagged  for  an  instant.  He  must  have  suf- 
fered privations  and  dangers  manifold.  Think  of  him 
in  those  gloomy  periods,  pacing  the  decks  of  ships  on 
dark,  stormy  nights,  in  mid-ocean,  or  wandering  in  the 
desolate  forests  of  Newfoundland  in  pelting  rains, 
comfortless  and  forlorn. 

3.  I  saw  him  in  1858,  immediately  after  the  first 
cable  had  ceased  to  throb.  Public  excitement  had 
grown  wild  over  the  mysterious  working  of  those 
flashing  wires,  and  when  they  stopped  speaking  the 
reaction  was  intense.  Stockholder,  as  well  as  the 
public  generally,  grew  exasperated  and  suspicious ; 
unbelievers  sneered  at  the  whole  project,  and  called 
the  telegraph  a  hoax  from  tlie  beginning.  They  de- 
clared that  never  a  message  had  passed  through  the 
unresponsive  wires,  and  that  Cyrus  Field  w.uj  a  liar  I 
The  odium  cast  upon  him  was  boundless.  He  was  the 
butt  and  the  by -word  of  his  time. 

4.  It  was   at    this  moment    I  saw  him,  and    I  well 


54  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [VoL  I. 

remember  how  cowardly  I  acted,  and  how  courageous 
he  appeared !  I  scarcely  dared  to  face  the  man  who 
had  encountered  such  an  overwhelming  disappointment, 
and  who  was  suffering  such  a  terrible  disgrace.  But 
when  we  met,  and  I  saw  how  he  rose  to  the  occasion, 
and  did  not  abate  one  jot  of  heart  or  hope,  I  felt  that 
this  man  was  indeed  master  of  the  situation,  and  would 
yet  silence  the  hosts  of  doubters  who  were  thrusting 
their  darts  into  his  sensitive  spirit.  Eight  years  more 
he  endured  the  odium  of  failure,  but  still  kept  plowing 
across  the  Atlantic,  flying  from  city  to  city,  soliciting 
capital,  holding  meetings,  and  forcing  down  the  most 
colossal  discouragement. 

5.  At  last  day  dawned  again,  and  another  cable  was 
paid  out,  this  time  from  the  deck  of  the  Great  Eastern. 
Twelve  hundred  miles  of  it  were  laid  down,  and  the 
ship  was  just  lifting  her  head  to  a  stiff  breeze,  then 
springing  up,  when,  without  a  moment's  warning,  the 
cable  suddenly  snapped  short  off  and  plunged  into  the 
sea.     Says  the  published  account  of  this  great  disaster : 

"  Mr.  Field  came  from  the  companion-way  into  the 
saloon,  and  observed  with  admirable  composure,  though 
his  lip  quivered  and  his  cheek  was  white,  *  The  cable 
has  parted,  and  has  gone  from  the  reel  overboard  !  '  " 

Nine  days  and  nights  they  dragged  the  bottom  of 
the  sea  for  this  lost  treasure,  and  though  they  grappled 
it  three  times,  they  could  not  bring  it  to  the  surface. 

6.  In  that  most  eloquent  speech  made  by  Mr.  Field 
at  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  banquet  in  New  York, 


Chap,  2.]  THK    STOBY    OF    THK    CABLE.  55 

one  of  the  most  touching  recitals  on  record,  he  said : 
"  We  returned  to  England  defeated,  but  full  of  resolu- 
tion to  begin  the  battle  anew."  And  this  time  his 
energy  was  greater  even  than  before.  In  five  months 
another  cable  was  shipped  on  board  the  Great  Eastern, 
and  this  time,  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  the  wires 
were  stretched,  unharmed,  from  continent  to  continent. 

7.  Then  came  that  never-to-be-forgotten  search,  in 
four  ships,  for  the  lost  cable.  In  the  bows  of  one  of 
these  vessels  stood  Cyrus  Field,  day  and  night,  in 
storm  and  fog,  squall  and  calm,  intently  watching  the 
quiver  of  the  grapnel  that  was  dragging  two  miles 
down  on  the  bottom  of  the  deep. 

8.  At  length,  on  the  last  night  of  August,  a  little 
before  midnight,  the  spirit  of  this  brave  man  was 
rewarded.  I  shall  here  quote  his  own  words,  as  none 
others  could  possibly  convey  so  well  the  thrilling  inter- 
est of  that  hour.  He  says:  "All  felt  as  if  life  and 
death  hung  on  the  issue.  It  was  only  when  the  cable 
was  brought  over  the  bow  and  on  to  the  deck,  that 
men  dared  to  breathe.  Even  then  they  hardly  believed 
their  eyes.  Some  crept  toward  it  to  feel  it,  to  be 
sure  it  was  there.  Tlien  we  carried  it  along  to  the 
electrician's  room,  to  see  if  our  long-souglit  treasure 
was  alive  or  dead.  A  few  minutes  of  suspense,  and  a 
flash  told  of  ilie  lightning  current  again  set  free. 

9.  "  Then  the  feeling  long  pent  up  buret  forth. 
Some  turned  away  their  heads  and  wept.  Others 
broke  into  cheei-s,  and  the  cry  run  from  man  to  man, 


56  THB    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

and  was  heard  down  in  the  engine-Tooms,  deck  below 
deck,  and  from  the  boats  on  the  water,  and  the  other 
ships,  while  rockets  lighted  up  the  darkness  of  the  sea. 
Then,  with  thankful  hearts,  we  turned  our  faces  again 
to  the  west.  But  soon  the  wind  rose,  and  for  thirty- 
six  hours  we  were  exposed  to  all  the  dangers  of  h 
storm  on  the  Atlantic. 

10.  "  Yet,  in  the  very  height  and  fury  of  the  gale,  as 
I  sat  in  the  electrician's  room,  a  flash  of  light  came  up 
from  the  deep,  which,  having  crossed  to  Ireland,  came 
back  to  me  in  mid-ocean,  telling  me  that  those  so  dear 
to  me,  whom  I  had  left  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson, 
were  well,  and  following  us  with  their  wishes  and  their 
prayers.  This  was  like  a  whisper  of  God  from  the  sea, 
bidding  me  keep  heart  and  hope." 

11.  And  now,  after  all  those  thirteen  years  of  almost 
superhuman  struggle,  and  that  one  moment  of  almost 
superhuman  victory,  I  think  we  may  safely  include 
Cyrus  W.  Field  among  the  masters  of  the  situation. 

James  T.  Field. 


Cb&p.  2.1  THE    PETRIFIED    FEKN.  67 


THE  PETRIFIED  FERN. 

I. 

In  a  valley,  centuries  ago, 

Grew  a  little  fern-leaf,  green  and  slender, 
Veining  delicate,  and  fibres  tender  ; 

Waving,  when  the  wind  crept  down  so  low. 
Rushes  tall,  and  moss,  and  grass  grew  round  it, 
Playful  sunbeams  darted  in  and  found  it. 
Drops  of  dew  stole  in  by  night  and  crowned  it. 

But  no  foot  of  man  e'er  trod  that  way ; 

Earth  was  young  and  keeping  holiday. 

II. 

Monster  fishes  swam  the  silent  main, 

Stately  forests  waved  their  giant  branches, 
Mountains  hurled  their  snowy  avalanches. 

Mammoth  creatures  stalked  across  the  plain  : 
Xature  reveled  in  grand  mysteries. 
But  the  little  fern  was  not  of  these, 
Did  not  number  with  the  hills  and  trees; 

Only  grew  and  waved  its  wild,  sweet  way, 

None  ever  came  to  note  it  day  by  day. 

III. 

Earth,  one  time,  put  on  a  frolic  mood. 

Heaved  the  rocks,  and  change*!  the  mighty  motion 
Of  the  deep  strong  currents  of  llie  ocean. 

Moved  the  plain  and  shook  the  hauglity  wood, 


58  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        (VoL  L 

Crushed  the  little  fern  in  soft,  moist  clay, 

Covered  it  and  hid  it  safe  away. 

Oh  the  long,  long  centuries  since  that  day! 
Oh  the  agony  !     Oh  life's  bitter  cost 
Since  that  useless  little  fern  was  lost ! 

IV. 

Useless?   Lost?     There  came  a  thoughtful  man, 
Searching  Nature's  secrets,  far  and  deep  ; 
From  a  fissure  in  a  rocky  steep 

He  Avithdrew  a  stone,  o'er  which  there  ran 
Fairy  pencilings,  a  quaint  design, 
Veinings,  leafage,  fibres  clear  and  fine, 
And  the  fern's  life  lay  in  evei;y  line ! 

So,  I  think,  God  hides  some  souls  away, 

Sweetly  to  surprise  us,  the  last  day. 

Mary  Lydia  Bolles. 


VALUE    OF   THE   UNION. 

1.  I  pRt)FESS,  Sir,  in  my  career  hitherto,  to  have 
kept  steadily  in  view  the  prosperity  and  honor  of  the 
whole  country,  and  the  preservation  of  our  Federal 
Union.  It  is  to  that  Union  we  owe  our  safety  at 
home,  and  our  considei-ation  and  dignity  abroad.  It  is 
to  that  Union  that  we  are  chiefly  indebted  for  what- 
ever  makes   us   most   proud   of    our   country.     That 


Chap.  2-1  VALUE    OF    THE    UXIOX.  59 

Union  we  reached  only  by  the  discipline  of  our  virtues 
in  the  severe  school  of  adversity.  It  had  its  origin 
in  the  necessities  of  disordered  finance,  prostrate  com- 
merce, and  ruined  credit.  Under  its  benign  influences, 
these  great  interests  immediately  awoke,  as  from  the 
dead,  and  sprang  forth  with  newness  of  life. 

2.  Every  year  of  its  duration  has  teemed  with  fresh 
proofs  of  its  utility  and  its  blessings  ;  and  although 
our  territory  has  stretched  out  wider  and  wider,  and 
our  population  spread  farther  and  farther,  they  have 
not  outrun  its  protection  or  its  benefits.  It  has  been 
to  us  all  a  copious  fountain  of  national,  social,  and 
personal  happiness. 

3.  I  have  not  allowed  myself,  Sir,  to  look  beyond  the 
Union,  to  see  what  might  lie  hidden  in  the  dark  recess 
behind.  I  have  not  coolly  weighed  the  chances  of  pre- 
serving liberty  when  the  bonds  that  unite  us  together 
shall  be  broken  asunder.  I  have  not  accustomed 
myself  to  bang  over  the  precipice  of  disunion,  to  see 
whether,  with  my  short  sight,  I  can  fathom  the  depth 
of  the  abyss  below ;  nor  could  I  regard  him  as  a  safe 
counsellor  in  the  affaiis  of  this  government,  Avliose 
thoughts  should  be  mainly  bent  on  considering,  not 
how  the  Union  may  be  best  preserved,  but  how  toler- 
able might  be  the  condition  of  the  people  when  it 
should  be  broken  up  and  destroyed. 

4.  While  the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting, 
gratifying  prospects  spread  out  before  us,  for  us  and 
our  children.     Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the 


60  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol,  1. 

yeil.  God  grant  that  in  my  day,  at  least,  that  curtain 
may  not  rise  !  God  grant  that  on  ray  vision  never 
may  be  opened  what  lies  behind  !  When  my  ej^es  shall 
be  turned  to  behold  for  the  last  time  the  sun  in  heaven, 
may  I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishon- 
ored fragments  of  a  once  glorious  Union;  on  States, 
dissevered,  discordant,  belligerent ;  oq  a  land  rent  with 
civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood  ! 
5.  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather 
behold  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  republic,  now  known 
and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  ad- 
vanced, its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  origi- 
nal lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single 
star  obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto,  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as  "  What  is  all  this  worth  ? "  nor  those 
other  words  of  delusion  and  folly,  "  Liberty  first  and 
Union  afterwards ;  "  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over  in 
characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds, 
as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in 
every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  senti- 
ment dear  to  every  true  American  heart, —  "  Liberty 
and  Union,  now  and  forever,  one  and  inseparable !  " 

Daniel  Webster. 


.5  tjb 


KEY   TO    CHAPTER   THIRD. 


-&M^ 


SELF-COMMAND. 


S  ELF-COMMAND  in  oratoiy,  is  shown  by  the  surren- 
der of  every  agent  of  the^^eaker  to  the^  truth.  The 
orator  manifests  a  reliance  on  the  power  of  truth.  He 
appears  to  have  an  unquestioning  faith  that  truth  will 
prevail  jvhen_presented. 

Such  a  manner  implies  a  trust  in  the_audience.  An 
apparent  confidence  jn  the  nobility^f  the  natures  and 
the  purity^  the _heartsj)f  those  addressed,  brings 
them  into  vital  sympathy  with  the  speaker. 

Tfc  thn,t,J^  commanded  hy  truth  is_jelf::C07nmc^ 
There  is  a  sweet  joy  manifested  by  the  orator  when  he 
feels  the  certainty  that  the  truth  "  runs  and  is  glori- 
fied." It  appears  as  if  the  orator  had  taken  himself 
away,  that  the  channel,  through  which  the  truth 
coui-ses  from  its  infinite  source  into  ready  hearts, 
might  be  clear. 


a 


n     Q, 


rV^  .-K^     \liL 


CHAPTER  m. 


ts 


SELF-COM>LAJSrD. 

A  double  minded  man  is  unstable  in  all  his  loays ;  for  he  that  wavereth 
like  a  loave  of  the  sea,  driven  with  the  word  and  tossed. —  St.  James. 


SPEECH  IN  REPLY  TO  HAYNE. 

1.  The  gentleman,  Sir,  in  declining  to  postpone  the 
debate,  told  the  Senate,  with  the  emphasis  of  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  that  there  was  something  rankling  here^ 
which  he  wished  to  relieve.  (Mr.  Hayne  rose,  and 
disclaimed  having  used  the  word  rankling.')  It  would 
not,  Mr.  President,  be  safe  for  the  honorable  member 
to  appeal  to  those  around  him,  upon  the  question 
whether  he  did  in  fact  make  use  of  that  word.  But 
he  may  have  been  unconscious  of  it.  At  any  rate,  it  is 
enough  that  he  disclaims  it. 

2.  But  still,  with  or  without  the  use  of  that  particu- 
lar word,  he  had  yet  something  here^  he  said,  of  which 
he  wished  to  rid  himself  by  an  immediate  reply.  In 
this  respect.  Sir,  I  have  a  great  advantage  over  the 
honorable    gentleman.      There    is    notliing    here^    Sir, 

63 


64  THE    SIXTEEN^    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [VoL  I. 

which  gives  me  the  slightest  uneasiness ;  neither  fear, 
nor  anger,  nor  that  which  is  sometimes  more  trouble- 
some than  either,  the  consciousness  of  having  been  in 
the  wrong.  There  is  nothing,  either  originating  here, 
or  now  received  here  by  the  gentleman's  shot.  Noth- 
ing originating  here,  for  I  had  not  the  slightest  feeling 
of  unkindness  towards  the  honorable  member. 

3.  Some  passages,  it  is  true,  had  occurred  since  our 
acquaintance  in  this  body,  which  I  could  have  wished 
might  have  been  otherwise  ;  but  I  had  used  philosophy 
and  forgotten  thera.  I  paid  the  honorable  member  the 
attention  of  listening  Avith  respect  to  his  first  speech ; 
and  when  he  sat  down,  though  surprised,  and  I  must 
even  say  astonished,  at  some  of  his  opinions,  nothing 
was  farther  from  my  intention  than  to  commence  any 
personal  warfare.  Through  the  whole  of  the  few 
remarks  I  made  in  answer,  I  avoided,  studiously  and 
carefully,  ever}'  thing  wliich  I  thought  possible  to  be 
construed  into  disrespect.  And,  Sir,  while  there  is 
thus  nothing  originating  here  which  I  have  wished  at 
any  time,  or  now  wish,  to  discharge,  I  must  repeat  also, 
that  nothing  has  been  received  here  which  rankles^  or 
in  any  way  gives  me  annoyance. 

4.  I  will  not  accuse  the  honorable  member  of  violat- 
ing the  rules  of  civilized  war ;  I  will  not  say  that  he 
poisoned  his  arrows.  But  whether  his  shafts  were,  or 
were  not,  dipped  in  that  which  would  have  caused 
rankling  if  they  had  reached  their  destination,  there 
was  not,  as  it  happened,  quite  strength  enough  in  the 


Chap.  3.1  SPEECH    IX    REPLY    TO    HAYNE.  65 

bow  to  bring  them  to  their  mark.  If  he  wishes  now  to 
gather  up  those  shafts,  he  must  look  for  them  else- 
where ;  they  will  not  be  found  fixed  and  quivering  in 
the  object  at  which  they  were  aimed. 

'6.  The  honorable  member  complained  that  I  had 
slept  on  his  speech.  I  did  sleep  on  the  gentleman's 
speech,  and  slept  soundly.  And  I  slept  equally  well 
on  his  speech  of  yesterday,  i^Q  which  I  am  now  reply- 
ing. It  is.  quite  possible  that  in  this  respect,  also,  I 
possess  some  advantage  over  the  honorable  member, 
attributable,  doubtless,  to  a  cooler  temperament  on 
my  part ;  for,  in  truth,  I  slept  upon  his  speeches 
remarkably  well. 

6.  He  proceeded  to  ask  me  whether  I  had  turned 
upon  him,  in  this  debate,  from  the  consciousness  that 
I  should  find  an  overmatch  if  I  ventured  on  a  contest 
with  his  friend  from  Missouri.  Matches  and  over- 
matches  !  Those  terms  are  more  applicable  elsewhere 
than  here,  and  fitter  for  other  assemblies  than  tliis. 
Sir,  the  gentleman  seems  to  forget  where  and  what  we 
are.  This  is  a  Senate,  a  Senate  of  equals,  of  men 
of  individual  honor  and  personal  character,  and  of 
absolute  independence.  We  know  no  masters,  we 
acknowledge  no  dictators.  This  is  a  hall  for  mutual 
consultation  and  discussion;  not  an  arena  for  the 
exhibition  of  champions. 

ITj  But,  Sir,  if  it  be  imagined  that  by  this  mutual 
quotation  and  conmiendation  ;  if  it  be  supposed  that,  by 
casting  the  characters  of  the  drama,  assiguing  to  each 


66  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [VoL  I. 

his  part,  to  one  the  attack,  to  another  the  cry  of  onset ; 
or  if  it  be  thought  that,  by  a  loud  and  empty  vaunt  of 
anticipated  victory,  any  laurels  are  to  be  won  here ;  if 
it  be  imagined,  especially,  that  any,  or  all  these  things 
will  shake  any  purpose  of  mine,  I  can  tell  the  honor- 
able member,  once  for  all,  that  he  is  greatly  mistaken, 
and  that  he  is  dealing  with  one  of  whose  temper  and 
character  he  has  yet  much  t^  leam.  Sir,  I  shall  not 
allow  myself,  on  this  occasion,  I  hope  on  no  occasion, 
to  be  betraj'-ed  into  any  loss  of  temper. 

8.  But,  Sir,  the  Coalition !  The  Coalition !  Ay, 
"  the  murdered  Coalition  !  "  The  gentleman  asks,  if  I 
were  led  or  frightened  into  this  debate  by  the  spectre 
of  the  Coalition.  "  Was  it  the  ghost  of  the  murdered 
Coalition,"  he  exclaims,  "  which  haunted  the  member 
from  Massachusetts;  and  which,  like  the  ghost  of 
Banquo,  would  never  down  ?  '*  "■  The  murdered  Coa- 
lition ! "  Sir,  this  charge  of  a  coalition,  in  reference 
to  the  late  administration,  is  not  original  with  the 
honorable  member.  It  did  not  spring  up  in  the  Senate. 
Whether  as  a  fact,  as  an  argument,  or  as  an  embellish- 
ment, it  is  all  borrowed.  He  adopts  it,  indeed,  from  a 
very  low  origin,  and  a  still  lower  present  condition. 
It  is  one  of  the  thousand  calumnies  with  which  the 
press  teemed,  during  an  exciting  political  canvas. 

9.  But,  Sir,  the  honorable  member  was  not,  for 
other  reasons,  entirely  happy  in  his  allusion  to  the 
stoiy  of  Banquo's  murder  and  Banquo's  ghost.  It 
was  not,  I  think,  the  friends,  but  the  enemies  of  the 


Chap.  3-1  SPEECH    IN    REPLY    TO    HAYNE.  67 

murdered  Banquo,  at  whose  bidding  his  spirit  would 
not  down.  The  honorable  gentleman  is  fresh  in  his 
reading  of  the  English  classics,  and  can  put  me  right 
if  I  am  wrong;  but,  according  to  my  poor  recollec- 
tion, it  was  at  those  who  had  begun  with  caresses 
and  ended  with  foul  and  treacherous  murder  that  the 
gory  locks  were  shaken.  The  ghost  of  Banquo,  like 
that  of  Hamlet,  was  an  honest  ghost.  It  disturbed  no 
innocent  man.  It  knew  where  its  appearance  would 
strike  terror,  and  who  would  cry  out,  "  A  Ghost !  "  It 
made  itself  visible  in  the  right  quarter,  and  compelled 
the  guilty  and  the  conscience-smitten,  and  none  others, 
to  start,  with, 

"  Pr'jthee,  see  there  I  behold !  look  !  lo  — 
If  I  stand  here,  I  saw  him !  " 

10.  Their  eyeballs  were  seared  (was  it  not  so,  Sir  ?) 
who  had  thought  to  shield  themselves  by  concealing 
their  own  hand,  and  laying  the  imputation  of  the  crime 
on  a  low  and  hireling  agency  in  wickedness  ;  who  had 
vainly  attempted  to  stifle  the  workings  of  their  own 
coward  consciences,  by  ejaculating,  through  white  lips 
and  chattering  teeth,  "  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it  I " 
I  have  misread  the  great  Poet  if  those  who  had  no  way 
partaken  in  the  deed  of  the  death  either  found  that 
they  were,  or  feared  that  they  should  he^  pushed  from 
their  stools  by  the  ghost  of  the  slain,  or  exclaimed  to 
a  spectre  created  by  their  own  fears  and  their  own 
remorse,  "  Avaunt !  ajid  quit  our  sight !  " 


r 


68  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS   OF   ART.         [VoL  1. 

11.  There  is  another  particular,  Sir,  in  which  the 
honorable  member's  quick  perception  of  resemblances 
might,  I  should  think,  have  seen  something  in  the 
story  of  Banquo,  making  it  not  altogether  a  subject  of 
the  most  pleasant  contemplation.  Those  who  murdered 
Banquo,  what  did  they  win  by  it  ?  Substantial  good  ? 
Permanent  power?  Or  disappointment,  rather,  and 
sore  mortification ;  dust  and  ashes  —  the  common  fate 
of  vaulting  ambition  overleaping  itself?  Did  not 
even-handed  justice  ere  long  commend  the  poisoned 
chalice  to  their  own  lips  ?  Did  they  not  soon  find  that 
for  another  they  had  "filed  their  mind?"  that  their 
ambition,  though  apparently  for  the  moment  successful, 
had  but  put  a  barren  sceptre  in  their  grasp?  Ay, 
Sir, 

"  a  barren  sceptre  in  their  grip, 

Thence  to  he  wrencKd  hy  an  unlineal  hand^ 

JVb  son  of  theirs  succeeding^ 

12.  Sir,  I  need  pursue  the  allusion  no  further.  I 
leave  the  honorable  gentleman  to  run  it  out  at  his 
leisure,  and  to  derive  from  it  all  the  gratification  it  is 
calculated  to  administer.  If  he  finds  himself  pleased 
with  the  associations,  and  prepared  to  be  quite  satisfied 
though  the  parallel  should  be  entirely  completed,  I  had 
almost  said  I  am  satisfied  also ;  but  that  I  shall  think 
of.     Yes,  Sir,  I  will  think  of  that. 

13.  In  the  course  of  my  observations  the  other  day, 
Mr.  President,  I  paid  a  passing  tribute  of  respect  to  a 


Chap.  3.1  SPEECH    IN    REPLY    TO    HATNE.  69 

very  worthy  man,  Mr.  Dane,  of  Massachusetts.     It  so 
happened  that  he    drew  the    Ordinance    of   1787,  for 
the  government  of    the    Northwestern    Territory.     A 
man  of  so  much  ability,  and  so  little  pretence ;  of  so 
great  a  capacity  to  do  good,  and  so  unmixed  a  disposi- 
tion to  do  it  tor  its  own  sake ;  a  gentleman  who  had 
acted  an  important  part,  forty  yeai-s  ago,  in  a  measure 
the  influence  of  which  is  still  deeply  felt  in  the  very 
matter    which   was   the   subject   of   debate,    might,   I 
thought,  receive  from  me  a  commendatory  recognition. 
14.  But  the  honorable  member  was  inclined  to  be 
facetious  on  the  subject.     He  was  rather  disposed  to 
make  it  matter  of  ridicule,  that  I  had  introduced  into 
the  debate  the  name  of  one  Nathan  Dane,  of  whom  he 
assures  us  he  had  never  before  heard.     Sir,  if  the  hon- 
orable member  had  never  before  heard  of  Mr.  Dane,  I 
am  sorry  for  it.     It  shows  him  less  acquainted  with  the 
public  men  of  the  countiy  than  I  had  supposed.     Let 
me  tell  him,  however,  that  a  sneer  from  him  at   the 
mention  of  the  name  of  Mr.  Dane  is  in  bad  taste.     It 
may  well  be    a    maik    of   ambition.  Sir,    either    with 
the   honorable    gentleman    or    myself,    to    accomplish 
as    much  to  make    our   names    known    to    advantage, 
and    remembered    with   gratitude,   as    Mr.    Dane    has 
accomplished. 

Daniel  WEusTEii. 


70  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 


ABSALOM. 

I. 

The  waters  slept.     Night's  silvery  veil  hung  low 

On  Jordan's  bosom,  and  the  eddies  curled 

Their  glassy  rings  beneath  it,  like  the  still, 

Unbroken  beating  of  the  sleeper's  pulse. 

The  reeds  bent  down  the  stream  ;  the  willow  leaveS; 

With  a  soft  cheek  upon  the  lulling  tide, 

Forgot  the  lifting  winds ;  and  the  long  stems, 

Whose  flowers  the  water,  like  a  gentle  nurse, 

Bears  on  its  bosom,  quietly  gave  way. 

And  leaned,  in  graceful  attitudes,  to  rest. 

II. 

How  strikingly  the  course  of  nature  tells, 
By  its  light  heed  of  human  suffering, 
That  it  was  fashioned  for  a  happier  world ! 

III. 

King  David's  limbs  were  weary.     He  had  fled 
From  far  Jerusalem ;  and  now  he  stood 
With  his  faint  people,  for  a  little  rest 
Upon  the  shore  of  Jordan.     The  light  wand 
Of  morn  was  stirring,  and  he  bared  his  brow 
To  its  refreshing  breath ;  for  he  had  worn 
The  mourner's  covering,  and  had  not  felt 
That  he  could  see  his  people  until  now. 


Chap.  3]  ABSALOM.  71 

They  gathered  round  him  on  the  fresh  green  bank, 
And  spoke  their  kindly  -words  ;  and,  as  the  sun 
Rose  up  in  heaven,  he  knelt  among  them  there, 
And  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hands  to  pray. 

IV. 

Oh  !  when  the  heart  is  full —  when  bitter  thoughts 

Come  crowding  thickly  up  for  utterance, 

And  the  poor,  common  words  of  courtesy 

Are  such  a  very  mockery  —  how  much 

The  bursting  heart  may  pour  itself  in  prayer! 

V. 

He  prayed  for  Israel ;  and  his  voice  went  up 

Strongly  and  fervently.     He  prayed  for  those 

Whose  love  had  been  his  shield;  and  his  deep  tones 

Grew  tremulous.     But  oh  !  for  Absalom  — 

For  his  estranged,  misguided  Absalom  — 

The  proud,  bright  being,  who  had  burst  away, 

In  all  his  i)rincely  beauty,  to  defy 

The  heart  that  cherished  him  —  for  him  he  i)oured. 

In  agony  that  would  not  be  controlled. 

Strong  supplication,  and  forgave  him  there. 

Before  his  God,  f(;r  his  deep  sinfulness. 


VI. 
The  pall  was  settled.     IIo  who  slept  beneath 
Was  straitened  for  the  grave ;  and  as  the  folds 
Sunk  to  the  still  ])roportions,  they  betrayed 
The  matchless  symmetry  of  Absalom. 


72  THE     SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    AUT.         fVol.  i 

His  hair  was  yet  unshorn,  and  silken  curls 
Were  floating  round  the  tassels,  as  they  swayed 
To  the  admitted  air,  as  glossy  now 
As  when,  in  hours  of  gentle  dalliance,  bathing 
The  snowy  fingers  of  Judea's  girls. 

VII. 

His  helm  was  at  his  feet ;  his  banner,  soiled 
With  trailing  through  Jerusalem,  was  laid, 
Reversed,  beside  him ;  and  the  jeweled  hilt, 
Whose  diamonds  lit  the  passage  of  his  blade, 
Rested,  like  mockery,  on  his  covered  brow. 

VIII. 

The  soldiers  of  the  king  trod  to  and  fro. 

Clad  in  the  garb  of  battle  ;  and  their  chief, 

The  mighty  Joab,  stood  beside  the  bier. 

And  gazed  upon  the  dark  pall  steadfastly. 

As  if  he  feared  the  slumberer  might  stir. 

A  slow  step  startled  him.     He  grasped  his  blade 

As  if  a  trumpet  rang  ;  but  the  bent  form 

Of  David  entered,  and  he  gave  command, 

In  a  low  tone,  to  his  few  followers, 

And  left  him  with  his  dead. 

IX. 

The  king  stood  still 
Till  the  last  echo  died  ;  then,  throwing  off 
The  sackcloth  from  his  brow,  and  laying  back 
The  pall  from  :he  still  features  of  his  child, 
He  bowed  his  head  upon  him,  and  broke  forth 
In  the  resistless  eloquence  of  woe : 


Chap.  3.]  ABSALOM.  73 


"  Alas  !  my  noble  boy,  that  thou  shouldst  die ! 
Thou,  who  wert  made  so  beautifully  fair ! 
That  death  should  settle  in  thy  glorious  eye, 

And  leave  his  stillness  in  this  clustering  hair. 
How  could  he  mark  thee  for  the  silent  tomb  — 
My  proud  boy,  Absalom ! 

XI. 

"  Cold  is  thy  brow,  my  son  !  and  I  am  chill. 
As  to  my  bosom  I  have  tried  to  press  thee. 
How  was  I  wont  to  feel  my  pulses  thrill, 

Like  a  rich  harp-string,  yearning  to  caress  thee, 
And  hear  thy  sweet '  My  father  !"*  from  these  dumb 
And  cold  lips,  Absalom ! 

XII. 

"  The  grave  hath  won  thee.     I  shall  hear  the  gush 
Of  music,  and  the  voices  of  the  young; 
And  life  shall  pass  me  in  the  mantling  blush, 

And  the  dark  tresses  to  the  soft  winds  tlung ; 
But  thou  no  more,  with  thy  sweet  voice,  shalt  come 
To  meet  me,  Absalom ! 

Xlll. 

"And,  oh!  when  I  am  stricken,  and  my  heart, 
Like  a  bruised  reed,  is  waiting  to  be  broken, 
How  will  its  love  for  thee,  as  I  dcjiart. 

Yearn  for  thine  car  to  drink  its  last  deep  token  1 
It  were  so  sweet,  amid  death's  gathering  gloom, 
To  see  thee,  Absalom ! 


74  THE    SIXTEEN   PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ABT.        [Vol.  1 

XIV. 

*♦  And  now,  farewell !  'Tis  hard  to  give  thee  up, 
With  death  so  like  a  gentle  slumber  on  thee  — 
And  thy  dark  sin !  —  oh,  I  could  drink  the  cup, 
If  from  this  woe  its  bitterness  had  won  thee. 
May  God  have  called  thee,  like  a  wanderer,  home, 

My  erring  Absalom ! " 

XV. 

He  covered  up  his  face,  and  bowed  himself 
A  moment  on  his  chUd  ;  then,  giving  him 
A  look  of  melting  tenderness,  he  clasped 
His  hands  convulsively,  as  if  in  prayer ; 
And,  as  if  strength  were  given  him  of  God, 
He  rose  up  calmly,  and  composed  the  pall 
Firmly  and  decently,  and  left  him  there, 
As  if  his  rest  had  been  a  breathing  sleep. 

N.  P.  Willis. 


ZENOBIA'S  AMBITION. 

1.  I  AM  charged  with  pride  and  ambition.  The  charge 
is  true,  and  I  glory  in  its  truth.  Who  ever  achieved 
any  thing  great  in  letters,  arts,  or  arms,  who  was  not 
ambitious?  Csesar  was  not  more  ambitious  than 
Cicero.  It  was  but  in  another  way.  Let  the  ambition 
be  a  noble  one,  and  who  shall  blame  it  ?  I  confess  I 
did  once  aspire  to  be  queen,  not  only  of  Palmyra,  but 


Chap.  3.]  zenobia's  ambition.  75 

of  the  East.  That  I  am.  I  now  aspire  to  remain  so. 
Is  it  not  an  honorable  ambition  ?  Does  it  not  become 
a  descendant  of  the  Ptolemies  and  of  Cleopatra? 

2.  I  am  applauded  by  you  all  for  what  I  have  already 
done.  You  would  not  it  should  have  been  less.  But 
why  pause  here  ?  Is  so  much  ambition  praiseworthy, 
and  more  criminal?  Is  it  fixed  in  nature  that  the 
limits  of  this  empire  should  be  Egypt,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  Hellespont  and  the  Euxine,  on  the  other? 
Were  not  Suez  and  Armenia  more  natural  limits  ?  Or 
hath  empire  no  natural  limit,  but  is  broad  as  the  genius 
that  can  devise,  and  the  power  that  can  win? 

3.  Rome  has  the  West.  Let  Palmyra  possess  the 
East.  Not  that  nature  prescribes  this  and  no  more. 
The  gods  prospering,  and  I  swear  not  that  the  Mediter- 
ranean shall  hem  me  in  upon  the  west,  or  Persia  on 
the  east.  Longi'nus  is  right, —  I  would  that  the  world 
were  mine.  I  feel,  within,  the  will  and  the  power  to 
bless  it,  were  it  so. 

4.  Are  not  my  people  happy  ?  I  look  upon  the  past 
and  the  present,  upon  my  nearer  and  remoter  subjects, 
and  ask,  nor  fear  the  answer.  Whom  have  I  wronged  ? 
What  province  have  I  oppressed  ?  What  city  pillaged  ? 
What  region  drained  with  taxes  ?  Whose  life  have  I 
unjustly  taken,  or  estates  coveted  or  robbed?  Wliose 
honor  have  I  wantonly  assailed  ?  Whose  rights,  though 
of  the  weakest  and  poorest,  have  I  trenched  upon  ?  I 
dwell,  where  I  would  ever  dwell,  in  the  hearts  of  my 
people.     It  is  written  in  your  faces,  that  I  reign  not 


76  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

more  over  you  than  within  you.     The  foundation  of 
my  throne  is  not  more  power,  than  love. 

5.  Suppose  now,  my  ambition  add  another  province 
to  our  realm.  Is  it  an  evil  ?  The  kingdoms  already 
bound  to  us  by  the  joint  acts  of  ourself  and  the  late 
royal  Odena'tus,  we  found  discordant  and  at  war. 
They  are  now  united  and  at  peace.  One  harmonious 
whole  has  grown  out  of  hostile  and  sundered  parts. 
At  my  hands  they  receive  a  common  justice  and  equal 
benefits.  The  channels  of  their  commerce  have  I 
opened,  and  dug  them  deep  and  sure.  Prosperity  and 
plenty  are  in  all  their  borders.  The  streets  of  our 
capital  bear  testimony  to  the  distant  and  various  in- 
dustry which  here  seeks  its  market. 

6.  This  is  no  vain  boasting :  —  receive  it  not  so,  good 
friends.  It  is  but  truth.  He  who  traduces  himself, 
sins  with  him  who  traduces  another.  He  who  is  unjust 
to  himself,  or  less  than  just,  breaks  a  law,  as  well  as 
he  who  hurts  his  neighbor.  I  tell  you  what  I  am,  and 
what  I  have  done,  that  your  trust  for  the  future  may 
not  rest  upon  ignorant  grounds.  If  I  am  more  than 
just  to  myself,  rebuke  me.  If  I  have  overstepped  the 
modesty  that  became  me,  I  am  open  to  your  censure, 
and  will  bear  it. 

7.  But  I  have  spoken,  that  you  may  know  your 
queen, —  not  only  by  her  acts,  but  by  her  admitted 
principles.  I  tell  you  then  that  I  am  ambitious, —  that 
I  crave  dominion,  and  while  I  live  will  reign.  Sprung 
from  a  line  of  kings,  a  throne  is  my  natural  seat.     I 


Chap.  3.]       COLUMBUS    DISCOVERS    THE    NEW    WORLD.  77 

love  it.  But  I  strive,  too, —  you  can  bear  me  witness 
that  I  do,  —  that  it  shall  be,  while  I  sit  upon  it,  an 
honored,  unpolluted  seat.  If  I  can,  I  will  hang  a  yet 
brighter  glory  around  it. 

William  Ware. 


COLUMBUS  FIRST  DISCOVERS  LAND  IN  THE 

NEW  WORLD. 

1.  The  breeze  had  been  fresh  all  day,  with  more  sea 
than  usual,  and  they  had  made  great  progress.  At  sun- 
set they  had  stood  again  to  the  west,  and  were  plough- 
ing the  waves  at  a  rapid  rate,  the  Pinta  keeping 
the  head  from  her  superior  sailing.  The  greatest 
animation  prevailed  throughout  the  ships ;  not  an  eye 
was  closed  that  night.  As  the  evening  darkened, 
Columbus  took  his  station  on  the  top  of  the  castle  or 
cabin  on  a  high  poop  of  his  vessel,  ranging  his  eye 
along  the  dusky  horizon,  and  maintaining  an  intense 
and  unremitting  watch. 

2.  About  ten  o'clock,  he  thought  he  beheld  a  light 
glimmering  at  a  great  distance.  Fearing  his  eager 
hopes  might  deceive  him,  he  called  to  Pedro  Gutierrez, 
gentleman  of  the  king's  bed-clianiber,  and  inquired 
whether  he  saw  such  a  light;  the  latter  replied  in  the 
aflBrmative.     Doubtful    whether  it  might   not   yet   be 


78  THE    SIXTEEX    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        fVo).  I. 

some  delusion  of  the  fancy,  Columbus  called  Rodrigo 
Sanchez,  of  Segovia,  and  made  the  same  inquiry.  By 
the  time  the  latter  had  ascended  the  round-house,  the 
light  had  disappeared. 

3.  They  saw  it  once  or  twice  afterwards  in  sudden 
and  passing  gleams,  as  if  it  were  a  torch  in  the  bark 
of  a  fisherman,  rising  and  sinking  with  the  waves,  or 
in  the  hand  of  some  person  on  shore,  borne  up  and 
down  as  he  walked  from  house  to  house.  So  transient 
and  uncertain  were  these  gleams  that  few  attached  any 
importance  to  them;  Columbus,  however,  considered 
them  as  certain  signs  of  land,  and,  moreover,  that  the 
land  was  inhabited. 

4.  They  continued  their  course  until  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  a  gun  from  the  Pinta  gave  the  joyful  signal 
of  land.  It  was  first  descried  by  a  mariner  named 
Rodrigo  de  Triana ;  but  the  reward  was  afterwards  ad- 
judged to  the  admiral  for  having  previously  perceived 
the  light.  The  land  was  now  clearly  seen  about  two 
leagues  distant ;  whereupon  they  took  in  sail,  and  lay 
to,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  dawn. 

5.  The  thoughts  and  feelings  of  Columbus  in  this 
little  space  of  time  must  have  been  tumultuous  and 
intense.  At  length,  in  spite  of  every  difficulty  and 
danger,  he  had  accomplished  his  object.  The  great 
mystery  of  the  ocean  was  revealed ;  his  theory,  which 
had  been  the  scoff  of  sages,  was  triumphantly  estab- 
lished ;  he  had  secured  to  himself  a  glory  durable  as 
the  world  itself. 


Chap.  3.]       COLUMBUS   DISCOVERS    THE    NEW   WORLD.  79 

6.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  feelings  of  such 
a  man  at  such  a  moment,  or  the  conjectures  which 
must  have  tlironged  upon  his  mind,  as  to  the  land 
before  him,  covered  with  darkness.  That  it  was  fruit- 
ful was  evident  from  the  vegetables  which  floated  from 
its  shores.  He  thought,  too,  that  he  perceived  the 
fragrance  of  aromatic  groves.  The  moving  light  he 
had  beheld  proved  it  the  residence  of  man. 

7.  But  what  were  its  inhabitants  ?  were  they  like 
those  of  the  other  parts  of  the  globe;  or  were  they 
some  strange  and  monstrous  race,  such  as  the  imagina- 
tion was  prone  in  those  times  to  give  to  all  remote  and 
unknown  regions  ?  Had  he  come  upon  some  wild 
island  far  in  the  Indian  Sea ;  or  was  this  the  famed 
Cipango  itself,  the  object  of  his  golden  fancies  ? 

8.  A  thousand  speculations  of  the  kuid  must  have 
swarmed  upon  him,  as,  with  his  anxious  crews,  he 
waited  for  the  night  to  pass  away,  wondering  whether 
the  morning  light  would  reveal  a  savage  wilderness, 
or  dawn  upon  spicy  gi-oves,  and  glittering  fanes,  and 
gilded  cities,  and  all  the  splendor  of  oriental  civiliza- 
tion. 

Washington  Irving. 


80  THK    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    AET.        IVoL  I, 

CATILINE   AND   AURELIA. 

Catiline.     I  will  abandon  Rome,  —  give  back  her  scorn 
With  tenfold  scorn :  break  up  all  league  with  her, — 
All  memories.     I  will  not  breathe  her  air, 
Nor  warm  me  with  her  fire,  nor  let  my  bones 
Mix  with  her  sepulchres.     The  oath  is  sworn. 

Aurelia.     Hear  me,  Lord  Catiline  : 
The  day  we  wedded, —  'tis  but  three  short  years ! 
You  were  the  first  patrician  here, —  and  I 
Was  Marius'  daughter !     There  was  not  in  Rome 
An  eyfc,  however  haughty,  but  would  sink 
When  I  turned  on  it :  when  I  pass'd  the  streets 
My  chariot  wheel  was  foUow'd  by  a  host 
Of  your  chief  senators ;  as  if  their  gaze 
Beheld  an  empress  on  its  golden  round ; 
An  earthly  providence ! 

Catiline.     'Twas  so  !  —  'twas  so  ! 
But  it  is  vanished  —  gone. 

Aurelia.     By  yon  bright  sun ! 
That  day  shall  come  again ;  or,  in  its  place, 
One  that  shall  be  an  era  to  the  world ! 

Catiline.     What's  in  your  thoughts  ? 

Aurelia.     Our  high  and  hurried  life 
Has  left  us  strangers  to  each  other's  souls : 
But  now  we  think  alike.     You  have  a  sword,— 
Have  had  a  famous  name  i'  the  legions ! 

Catiline.     Hush ! 

Aurelia.     Have  the  walls  ears?     Great  Jove!     1  wish 
they  had ; 
And  tongues  too,  to  bear  witness  to  my  oath. 
And  tell  it  to  all  Rome. 


Chap.  S.]  CATILINE    AND    AURKLIA.  81 

Catiline.     Would  you  destroy  ? 

Anrelia.      Were  I  a  thunderbolt ! 

Rome's  ship  is  rotten  : 
Has  she  not  cast  you  out ;  and  would  you  sink 
With  her,  when  she  can  give  you  no  gain  else 
Of  her  fierce  fellowship  ?     Who'd  seek  the  chain 
That  link'd  him  to  his  mortal  enemy  ? 
Who'd  face  the  pestilence  in  his  foe's  house  ? 
Who,  when  the  prisoner  drinks  by  chance  the  cup, 
That  was  to  be  his  death,  would  squeeze  the  dregs 
To  find  a  drop  to  bear  him  company? 

Catiline.     It  will  not  come  to  this. 

Anrelia.      Shall  we  be  dragg'd 
A  show  to  all   the  city  rabble  ;  —  robb'd  — 
Down  to  the  very  mantle  on  our  backs, — 
A  pair  of  branded  beggars  !     Doubtless  Cicero  — 

Catiline.     Curs'd  be  the  ground  he  treads ! 
Name  him  no  more. 

Anrelia.     Doubtless  he'll  see  us  to  the  city  gates ; 
'Twill  be  the  least  respect  that  he  can  pay 
To  his  fallen  rival.     Do  you  hear,  my  lord  ? 
Deaf  as  the  rock  {aside).     With  all  his  lictors  shouting, 
"Room  for  the  noble  vagrants;  all  caps  off 
For  Catiline!  for  him  that  would  be  consul." 

Catiline.     Thus   to    be,  like    the    scorpion,  ringed   with 
fire. 
Till  I  sting  my  own  heart!  {aside).     There  is  no  hopel 

Aurelia.     One    hope    there    is,  worth    all    the    rest  — 
revenge  ! 
The  time  is  harrass'd,  jjoor,  and  discontent; 
Your  spirit  practised,  keen,  and  desperate, — 


82  THB    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    AET.        [Vol.  L 

The  senate  full  of  feuds, —  the  city  vexed 
With  petty  tyranny, —  the  legions  wronged  — 

Catiline.     Yet  who  has  stirred  ? 
Woman,  you  paint  the  air 
With  passion's  pencil. 

Aurelia.     Were  my  will  a  sword ! 

Catiline.     Hear  me,  bold  heart !     The  whole  gross  blood 
of  Rome 
Could  not  atone  ray  wrongs !     I'm  soul-shrunk,  sick, 
Weary  of  man  !     And  now  my  mind  is  fix'd 
For  Libya :  there  to  make  companionship 
Rather  of  bear  and  tiger, —  of  the  snake, — 
The  lion  in  his  hunger, —  than  of  man  ! 

Aurelia.     Were    my    tongue    thunder  —  I    would    cry, 
Revenge ! 

Catiline.     No  more  of  this ! 
In,  to  your  chamber,  wife ! 
There  is  a  whirling  lightness  in  my  brain 
That   will   not    now    bear    questioning. —  Away  I     \^Exit 

Aurelia. 
I  feel  a  nameless  pressure  on  my  brow, 
As  if  the  heavens  wei-e  thick  with  sudden  gloom ; 
A  shapeless  consciousness,  as  if  some  blow 
Were  hanging  o'er  my  head.     They  say  such  thoughts 
Partake  of  prophecy.  \_He  sta7ids  at  the  casement. 

This  air  is  living  sweetness.     Golden  sun. 
Shall  I  be  like  thee  yet  ?     The  clouds  have  past — 
And,  like  some  mighty  victor,  he  returns 
To  his  red  city  in  the  west,  that  now 
Spreads  all  her  gates,  and  lights  her  torches  up, 
In  triumph  for  her  glorious  conquerer.  G.  Croly. 


KEY  TO   CHAPTER   FOURTH. 

FORESIGHT. 

Foresight  as  applied  to  oratory,  is  a  leading  of  the 
mind  of  the  hearer  onward  from  the_certainty  of_  the 
ta^ith  already_pres.eiLtgd^  to  an  anticipation  of  still 
greater  things  to  be  revealed  hereafter.  "  Two  truths 
lire  told,  as  happy  prologues  to  the  swelling  act  of  the 
imperial  theme."  "  Glamis,  thou  art,  and  Cawdor, 
and  shalt  be  what  thou  art  promised."  In  all  true 
oratory,  there  is  always  this_anticipation^this  lookin_g 
forward  for  more  than  has  been  revealed.  The  audi- 
ence should  be  left,  at  the  close  of  a  speech,  with  the 
feeling  that^  that  which  has__been_said  is  only  an  inlxo- 
duction  to  that  which  the  orator  j;ould  and  would 
reveal,  if  time  and  opportunity  permitted  him  to  do  so. 

By  the  use  of  this  principle,  the  deepest  interest  is 
awakened  and  maintained  in  the  mind  of  the  audience, 
together  with  the  disposition  to  yjursue  the  subject 
further. 

If  all  clergymen  obeyed  this  law  we  should  never 
hear  complaints  of  long  sermons,  even  tliough  the 
preacher  dwelt   on  his  "sixteenthly,"  and    tlien  con- 


84  THB    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

tinued  with  his  "  improvement,"  as  he  did  two  or 
three  generations  since,  even  when  the  mercury  was 
at  zero  because  of  no  fire  in  the  meeting-house,  except 
that  of  the  living  word. 

Many  speakers,  who  would  otherwise  be  successful, 
are  failures  because  whatever  they  say  has  the  atmos- 
phere, emphasis,  and  color  of  voice  which  seem  to 
say,  *'  there  is  so  much,  and  no  more,  and  herein  I 
tell  it  all  to  you.  You  are  now  acquainted  with  all 
the  truth  the  statement  contains.  There  the  truth 
begins,  and  here  it  ends." 

This  law  of  foresight  is  a  fascinating  power  which 
Shakespeare  understood  when  he  put  it  into  the  mouth 
of  Lady  Macbeth  to  say  to  her  husband,  when  she 
would  lead  him  to  do  that  which  she  feared  the  "  milk 
of  human  kindness  "  in  his  nature  would  prevent  his 
executing,  "  Great  Glamis  !  worthy  Cawdor !  greater 
than  both,  by  the  all-hail  hereafter !  " 

The  expression  of  foresight  is  not  given  by  means 
of  words  only,  but  by  the  manner  in  which  their 
meaning  is  expressed  through  voice,  look,  bearing, 
attitude,  and  movement ;  all  of  which  continually 
seem  to  say,  "these  utterances  are  only  as  *a  few 
drops  before  a  more  plentiful  shower.'  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 


FORESIGHT. 

Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained,  either  were  already  perfect: 
hut  I  follow  after,  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before.— 
Phillipians. 


TOUSSAINT'S  LAST  STRUGGLES  FOR  HAYTL 

1.  It  was  1801.  The  Frenchmen  who  lingered  on 
the  island  described  its  prosperity  and  order  as  almost 
incredible.  You  might  trust  a  child  with  a  bag  of  gold 
to  go  from  Samana  to  Port-au-Prince  without  risk. 
Peace  was  in  every  household;  the  valleys  laughed 
with  fertility ;  culture  climbed  the  mountains ;  the 
commerce  of  the  world  was  represented  in  its  harbors. 
At  this  time  Europe  concluded  the  Peace  of  Amiens, 
and  Napoleon  took  his  seat  on  the  throne  of  France. 
He  glanced  his  eyes  across  the  Atlantic,  and,  with 
a  single  stroke  of  his  pen,  reduced  Cayenne  and 
Martinique  back  into  chains.  He  then  said  to  his 
council,  "  What  shall  I  do  with  St.  Domingo?"  The 
slaveholders  said,  "  (Jive  it  to  us." 


86  THE    SIXTEEN    PEKFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

2.  Colonel  Vincent,  who  had  been  private  secretary 
to  Toussaint,  wrote  a  letter  to  Napoleon,  in  which  he 
said :  "  Sire,  leave  it  alone ;  it  is  the  happiest  spot 
in  your  dominions  ;  God  raised  this  man  to  govern ; 
races  melt  under  his  hand.  He  has  saved  you  this 
island ;  for  I  know  of  my  own  knowledge  that  when 
the  republic  could  not  have  lifted  a  finger  to  prevent 
it,  George  III.  offered  him  any  title  and  any  revenue 
if  he  would  hold  the  island  under  tke  British  crown. 
He  refused,  and  saved  it  for  France." 

3.  Napoleon  turned  awa}'-  from  his  council,  and  is 
said  to  have  remarked,  "  I  have  sixty  thousand  re- 
publican soldiers :  I  must  find  them  something  to  do." 
He  meant  to  say,  "  I  am  about  to  seize  the  crown ;  I 
dare  not  do  it  in  the  faces  of  sixty  thousand  republican 
soldiers :  I  must  give  them  some  work  at  a  distance 
to  do."  He  resolved  to  crush  Toussaint,  and  sent 
against  him  an  army,  giving  to  General  Leclerc  thirty 
thousand  of  his  best  troops,  with  orders  to  re-introduce 
slavery. 

4.  Mounting  his  horse,  and  riding  to  the  eastern 
end  of  the  island,  Samana,  he  looked  out  on  a  sight 
such  as  no  native  had  ever  seen  before.  Sixty  ships 
of  the  line,  crowded  by  the  best  soldiers  of  Europe, 
rounded  the  point.  They  were  soldiers  who  had 
never  yet  met  an  equal,  whose  tread,  like  Caesar's, 
had  shaken  Europe,  —  soldiers  who  had  scaled  the 
pyramids  and  planted  the  French  banners  on  the  walls 
of  Rome.     He  looked  a  moment,  counted  the  flotilla. 


Chap.  4.]       TOUSSAINT's    last    STRUGGLE    FOE    HATTI.  87 

let  the  reins  fall  on  the  neck  of  his  horse,  and,  turning 
to  Cristophe,  exclaimed :  "  All  France  is  come  to 
Hayti ;  they  can  only  come  to  make  us  slaves  ;  and 
we  are  lost !  "  He  then  recognized  the  only  mistake 
of  his  life,  —  his  confidence  in  Bonaparte,  which  had 
led  him  to  disband  his  army. 

5.  Returning  to  the  hills,  he  issued  the  only  procla- 
mation which  bears  his  name  and  breathes  vengeance  : 
"  My  children,  France  comes  to  make  us  slaves.  God 
gave  us  liberty ;  France  has  no  right  to  take  it  away. 
Burn  the  cities,  destroy  the  harvests,  tear  up  the  roads 
with  cannon,  poison  the  wells,  show  the  white  man  the 
hell  he  comes  to  make ; "  and  he  was  obeyed. 

6.  "When  the  great  William  of  Orange  saw  Loui& 
XIV.  cover  Holland  with  troops,  he  said,  "  Break 
down  the  dikes,  give  Holland  back  to  ocean;"  and 
Europe  said,  "  Sublime  !  "  When  Alexander  saw  the 
armies  of  France  descend  upon  Russia,  he  said,  "  Burn 
Moscow,  starve  back  the  invaders  ;  "  and  Europe  said, 
"  Sublime !  "  This  black  saw  all  Europe  marshaled 
to  crush  him,  and  gave  to  his  people  the  same  lieroic 
example  of  defiance. 

7.  It  is  true,  the  scene  grows  bloodier  as  we  proceed. 
But,  remember,  the  white  man  fitly  accompanied  his 
infamous  attempt  to  reduce  freemen  to  slavery  with 
every  bloody  and  cruel  device  that  bitter  and  shame- 
less hate  could  invent.  Aristocracy  is  always  cruel. 
The  black  man  met  the  attempt,  as  every  such  attempt 
should    be    met,  with   war   to   the   hilt.     In   hia  first 


88  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE     LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  L 

struggle  to  gain  his  freedom  he  had  been  generous 
and  merciful,  saved  lives  and  pardoned  enemies,  as 
the  people  in  every  age  and  clime  have  always  done 
when  rising  against  aristocrats.  Now,  to  save  his 
liberty,  the  negro  exhausted  every  means,  seized  every 
weapon  and  turned  back  the  hateful  invaders  with  a 
vengeance  as  terrible  as  their  own,  though  even  now 
he  refused  to  be  cruel. 

8.  Leclerc  sent  word  to  Cristophe  that  he  was  about 
to  land  at  Cape  City.  Cristophe  said,  "  Toussaint  is 
governor  of  the  island.  I  will  send  to  him  for  per- 
mission. If  without  it  a  French  soldier  sets  foot  on 
shore,  I  will  burn  the  town  and  fight  over  its  ashes." 

9.  Leclerc  landed.  Cristophe  took  two  thousand 
white  men,  women,  and  children,  and  carried  them  to 
the  mountains  for  safety,  then  with  his  own  hands  set 
fire  to  the  splendid  palace  which  French  architects 
had  just  finished  for  him,  aad  in  forty  hours  the  place 
was  in  ashes.  The  battle  was  fought  in  its  streets, 
and  the  French  driven  back  to  their  boats.  Wherever 
they  went  they  were  met  with  fire  and  sword.  Once, 
resisting  an  attack,  the  blacks,  Frenchmen  born,  shouted 
the  Marseilles  Hymn,  and  the  French  stood  still ; 
they  could  not  fight  the  Marseillaise.  And  it  was  not 
till  their  officers  sabred  them  on  that  they  advanced, 
and  then  they  were  beaten. 

10.  Beaten  in  the  field,  the  French  then  took  to 
lies.  They  issued  proclamations,  saying,  "  We  do  not 
come    to  make   you  slaves  ;  this   man  Toussaint  tells 


Chap.  4.]       TOUSSAINt's    LAST    STKUGGUE    FOB    HATfXI.  89 

you  lies.  Join  us,  and  you  shall  have  the  rights  you 
claim."  They  cheated  every  one  of  his  officers  except 
Cristophe  and  two  others,  and  finally  these  also  de- 
serted him,  and  he  was  left  alone.  He  then  sent  word 
to  Leclerc,  "  I  will  submit.  I  could  continue  the 
struggle  for  years, —  could  prevent  a  single  Frenchman 
from  safely  quitting  your  camp.  But  I  hate  blood- 
shed. I  have  fought  only  for  tlie  liberty  of  my  race. 
Guarantee  that,  I  will  submit  and  come  in."  He  took 
the  oath  to  be  a  faithful  citizen  ;  and  on  the  same 
crucifix  Leclerc  swore  that  he  should  be  faithfully 
protected,  and  that  the  island  should  be  free. 

11.  As  the  French  general  glanced  along  the  line 
of  his  splendidly  equipped  troops,  and  saw  opposite 
Toussaint's  ragged,  ill-armed  followers,  he  said  to  him, 
"L'Ouverture,  had  you  continued  the  war,  where  could 
you  have  got  arms?" — "I  would  have  taken  yours," 
was  the  Spartan  reply. 

12.  He  went  down  to  his  house  in  peace  ;  it  was 
summer.  Leclerc  remembered  that  the  fever  months 
were  coming,  when  his  army  would  be  in  hospitals, 
and  when  one  motion  of  that  royal  hand  would  sweep 
his  troops  into  the  sea.  He  was  too  dangerous  to  be 
left  at  large.  So  they  summoned  him  to  attend  a 
council;  he  went,  and  the  moment  he  entered  the 
room  the  officers  drew  their  swords  and  told  him  lie 
was  prisoner. 

13.  They  put  him  on  shipboard,  and  weighed  anchor 
for    France.     As    the  island   faded    from  his  sight  he 


90  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

turned  to  the  captain  and  said,  "  You  think  you  have 
rooted  up  the  tree  of  hberty,  but  I  am  only  a  branch  ; 
I  have  planted  the  tree  so  deep  that  all  France  can 
never  root  it  up." 

14.  He  was  sent  to  the  Castle  of  St.  Joux,  to  a 
dungeon  twelve  feet  by  twenty,  built  wholly  of  stone, 
with  a  narrow  window,  high  up  on  one  side,  looking 
out  on  the  snows  of  Switzerland.  In  this  living  tomb 
the  child  of  the  sunny  tropic  was  left  to  die. 

15.  From  the  moment  he  was  betrayed  the  negroes 
began  to  doubt  the  French,  and  rushed  to  arms.  Then 
flashed  forth  that  defying  courage  and  sublime  endur- 
ance which  show  how  alike  all  races  are  when  tried  in 
the  same  furnace.  The  war  went  on.  Napoleon  sent 
over  thirty  thousand  more  soldiers.  But  disaster  still 
followed  their  efforts.  What  the  sword  did  not  devour 
the  fever  ate  up.  They  were  chased  from  battle-field 
to  battle-field,  from  fort  to  fort,  and  finally  the  French 
commander  begged  the  British  admiral  to  cover  the 
remnant  of  his  troops  with  the  English  flag,  and  the 
generous  negroes  suffered  the  invaders  to  embark 
undisturbed. 

16.  Hayti  is  become  a  civilized  state,  the  seventh 
nation  in  the  catalogue  of  commerce  with  this  country, 
inferior  in  morals  and  education  to  none  of  the  West 
Indian  isles.  Foreign  merchants  trust  her  courts  as 
willingly  as  they  do  our  own.  Toussaint  made  her 
what  she  is. 

17.  In  this  work  there  was  grouped  around  him  a 


Chap.  4.]  BIRDS    OF    PASSAGE.  91 

score  of  men,  mostly  of  pure  negro  blood,  who  ably 
seconded  his  efforts.  Toussaint  was  indisputably  their 
chief.  Courage,  purpose,  endumnce,  —  these  are  the 
tests.  He  did  plant  a  state  so  deep  that  all  the 
world  has  not  been  able  to  root  it  up. 

Wendell  Phillips. 


BIRDS   OF   PASSAGE. 


Birds,  joyous  birds  of  the  wandering  wing ! 
Whence  is  it  ye  come  with  the  flowers  of  spring? 
"  We  come  from  the  shores  of  the  green  old  Nile, 
From  the  land  where  the  roses  of  Sharon  smile, 
From  the  palms  that  wave  through  the  Indian  sky, 
From  the  myrrh-trees  of  glowing  Araby. 

II. 
"  We  have  swe}H;  o'er  the  cities  in  song  renowned ; 
Silent  they  lie,  with  the  deserts  around, 
We  have  crossed  proud  rivers,  whose  tide  hath  rolled 
All  dark  with  the  warrior-blood  of  old ; 
And  each  worn  wing  hath  regained  its  home, 
Under  peasant's  roof-tree,  or  monarch's  dome." 

III. 
And  what  have  ye  found  in  the  monarch's  dome, 
Since  last  ye  travnrsi'd  the  blue  sea's  foam? 


92  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.         [Vol.  I. 

"  We  have  found  a  change,  we  have  found  a  pall, 
And  a  gloom  o'ershadowing  the  banquet-hall, 
And  a  mark  on  the  floor  as  of  life-drop  spilt 
Naught  looks  the  same  save  the  nest  we  built ! 


5 


IV. 

O  joyous  birds,  it  hath  still  been  so ; 

Through  the  halls  of  kings  doth  the  tempests  go ! 

But  the  huts  of  the  hamlet  lie  still  and  deep, 

And  the  hills  o'er  their  quiet  a  vigil  keep. 

Say,  what  have  ye  found  in  the  peasant's  cot, 

Since  last  ye  parted  from  that  sweet  spot? 


"  A  change  we  have  found  there  —  and  many  a  change! 
Faces  and  footsteps,  and  all  things  strange 
Gone  are  the  heads  of  the  silvery  hair, 
And  the  young  that  were,  have  a  brow  of  care, 
And  the  place  is  hushed  where  the  children  played ; 
Naught  looks  the  same,  save  the  nest  we  made !  " 

VI. 

Sad  is  your  tale  of  the  beautiful  earth, 
Birds  that  o'er-sweep  it,  in  power  and  mirth  ! 
Yet  through  the  wastes  of  the  trackless  air 
Ye  have  a  Guide,  and  shall  we  despair  ? 
Ye  over  desert  and  deep  have  passed ; 
So  we  may  reach  our  bright  home  at  last. 

Mrs.  Hemans. 


Chap.  4.1  KCCLESIASTK8    Xll.  93 


ECCLESIASTES    XIL 

1.  Remember  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy 
youth,  while  the  evil  days  come  not,  nor  the  years 
draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt  say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in 
them  ; 

2.  While  the  sun,  or  the  light,  or  the  moon,  or  the 
stars,  be  not  darkened,  nor  the  clouds  return  after  the 
rain  : 

3.  In  the  day  when  the  keepei-s  of  the  house  shall 
tremble,  and  the  strong  men  shall  bow  themselves,  and 
the  grindera  cease  because  they  are  few,  and  those  that 
look  out  of  the  windows  be  darkened, 

4.  And  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  when 
the  sound  of  the  grinding  is  low,  and  he  shall  rise 
up  at  the  voice  of  the  bird,  and  all  the  daughters  of 
music  shall  be  brought  low ; 

5.  Also  when  they  shall  be  afraid  of  that  which  is 
high,  and  fears  shall  be  in  the  way,  and  the  almond 
tree  shall  flourish,  and  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a 
burden,  and  desire  shall  fail :  because  man  goeth  to 
his  long  home,  and  the  mourners  go  about  the  streets  : 

6.  Or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the  golden 
bowl  be  broken,  or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the  foun- 
tain, or  the  wheel  broken  at  the  cistern. 

7.  Then  shall  the  dust  retuin  to  the  earth  as  it 
was:  and  the  spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it. 


94  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFKCTIVK    LAWS    OF    ART.         [Vol.  1 


13.  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter: 
Fear  God,  and  keep  his  commandments :  for  this  is 
the  whole  duty  of  man. 

14.  For  God  shall  bring  every  work  into  judgment, 
with  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good,  or  whether 
it  be  evil. 


THE    TWO    HUNDREDTH   ANNIVERSARY   OF 
THE    LANDING    OF   THE    PILGRIMS. 

1.  Let  us  rejoice  that  we  behold  this  day.  Let  us 
be  thankful  that  we  have  lived  to  see  the  bright  and 
happy  breaking  of  the  auspicious  morn,  which  com- 
mences the  third  century  of  the  history  of  New 
England.  Auspicious,  indeed, —  bringing  a  happiness 
beyond  the  common  allotment  of  Providence  to  men, 
—  full  of  present  joy,  and  gilding  with  bright  beams 
the  prospect  of  futurity,  is  the  dawn  that  awakens  us 
to  the  commemoration  of  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims. 

2.  Living  at  an  epoch  which  naturally  marks  the 
progress  of  the  history  of  our  native  land,  we  have 
come  hither  to  celebrate  the  great  event  with  which 
that  history  commenced.  Forever  honored  be  this, 
the  place  of  our  fathers'  refuge  !  Forever  remembered 
the  day  which  saw  them,  weary  and  distressed,  broken 


Chap.  4.]  THE    LANDING    OF    THE    PILGRIMS.  95 

in  everything  but  spirit,  poor  in  all  but  faith  and 
courage,  at  last  secure  from  the  dangers  of  wintry 
seas,  and  impressing  this  shore  with  the  first  footsteps 
of  civilized  man  ! 

3.  It  is  a  noble  faculty  of  our  nature  which  enables 
us  to  connect  our  thoughts,  our  sympathies,  and  our 
happiness  with  what  is  distant  in  place  or  time ;  and, 
looking  before  and  after,  to  hold  communion  at  once 
with  our  ancestors  and  our  posterity.  Human  and 
mortal  although  we  are,  we  are  nevertheless  not  mere 
insulated  beings  without  relation  to  the  past  or  future. 
Neither  the  point  of  time,  nor,  the  spot  of  earth,  in 
which  we  physically  live,  bounds  our  rational  and 
intellectual  enjoyments.  We  live  in  the  past  by  a 
knowledge  of  its  history  ;  and  in  the  future  by  hope 
and  anticipation, 

4.  By  ascending  to  an  association  with  our  ances- 
tors ;  by  contemplating  their  example  and  studying 
their  character ;  by  partaking  their  sentiments,  and 
imbibing  their  spirit ;  by  accompanying  them  in  their 
toils,  by  sympathizing  in  their  sufferings,  and  rejoicing 
in  their  successes  and  their  triumplis, —  we  seem  to 
belong  to  their  age,  and  to  mingle  our  own  existence 
with  theirs.  We  become  their  contemporaries,  live 
the  lives  which  they  lived,  endure  what  they  endured, 
and  partake  in  the  rewards  which  they  enjoyed. 

5.  And  in  like  manner,  by  running  along  the  line 
of  future  time,  by  contemplating  the  probable  fortunes 
of  those  who  are  coming  after  us,  by  attempting  some- 


96  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  1. 

thing  which  may  promote  their  happiness,  and  leave 
some  not  dishonorable  memorial  of  ourselves  for  their 
regard,  when  we  shall  sleep  with  the  fathers,  we 
protract  our  own  earthly  being,  and  seem  to  crowd 
whatever  is  future,  as  well  as  all  that  is  past,  into  the 
narrow  compass  of  our  earthly  existence. 

6.  As  it  is  not  a  vain  and  false,  but  an  exalted  and 
religious,  imagination  which  leads  us  to  raise  our 
thoughts  from  the  orb,  which,  amidst  this  universe 
of  worlds,  the  Creator  has  given  us  to  inhabit,  and 
to  send  them  with  something  of  the  feeling  which 
nature  prompts,  and,  teaches  to  be  proper  among 
children  of  the  same  Eternal  Parent,  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  myriads  of  fellow-beings,  with  which  his 
goodness  has  peopled  the  infinite  of  space  ;  so  neither 
is  it  false  or  vain  to  consider  ourselves  as  interested 
and  connected  with  our  whole  race,  through  all  time ; 
allied  to  our  ancestors ;  allied  to  our  posterity ;  closely 
compacted  on  all  sides  with  others  ;  ourselves  being 
but  links  in  the  great  chain  of  being  which  begins 
with  the  origin  of  our  race,  runs  onward  through  its 
successive  generations,  binding  together  the  past,  the 
present,  and  the  future,  and  terminating  at  last,  with 
the  consummation  of  all  things  earthly,  at  the  throne 
of  God. 

7.  There  may  be,  and  there  often  is,  indeed,  a 
regard  for  ancestry  which  nourishes  only  a  weak 
pride ;  as  there  is  also  a  care  for  posterity,  which  only 
disguises  an  habitual   avarice,  or  hides    the  workings 


Chap.  4.]  THE    LANDING    OF    THE    PILGRIMS.  91 

of  a  low  and  grovelling  vanity.  But  there  is  also 
a  moral  and  philosophical  respect  for  oar  ancestors,, 
which  elevates  the  character  and  improves  the  heart. 
Next  to  the  sense  of  religious  duty  and  moral  feel- 
ing, I  hardly  know  what  should  bear  with  stronger 
obligation  on  a  liberal  and  enlightened  mind,  than  a 
consciousness  of  alliance  with  excellence  wliich  is 
departed ;  and  a  consciousness,  too,  that  in  its  acts 
and  conduct,  and  even  in  its  sentiments  and  thoughts, 
it  may  be  actively  operating  on  the  happiness  of  those 
who  come  after  it. 

8.  Poetry  is  found  to  have  few  stronger  conceptions, 
by  which  it  would  affect  or  overwhelm  the  mind,  than 
those  in  which  it  presents  the  moving  and  speaking 
image  of  the  departed  dead  to  the  senses  of  the  living. 
This  belongs  to  poetry,  only  because  it  is  congenial  to 
our  nature.  Poetry  is  in  this  respect,  but  the  hand- 
maid of  true  philosophy  and  morality;  it  deals  with 
us  as  human  beings,  naturally  reverencing  those  whose 
visible  connection  with  this  state  of  existence  is  severed, 
and  who  may  yet  exercise  we  know  not  what  sympathy 
with  ourselves  ;  and  when  it  carries  us  forward,  also, 
and  shows  us  the  long  continued  result  of  all  the  good 
we  do,  in  the  prosperity  of  those  who  follow  us,  till  it 
bears  us  from  ourselves,  and  absorbs  us  in  an  intense 
interest  for  what  shall  happen  to  the  generation  after 
us,  it  speaks  only  in  the  language  of  our  nature,  and 
affects  us  with  sentiments  which  belong  to  us  a» 
human  beings.  Daniel  Webster. 


THE    SIXTEEN   PEEFBCTIVa    LAWS  OF   AST.       (VoLL 


THE  MESSIAH. 

I. 

Rapt  into  future  times,  the  bard  begun : 

A  Virgin  shall  conceive,  a  Virgin  bear  a  Son  I 

From  Jesse's  root  behold  a  branch  arise, 

Whose  sacred  flower  wdth  fragrance  fills  the  skies : 

The  ethereal  spirit  o'er  its  leaves  shall  move, 

And  on  its  top  descend  the  mystic  dove. 

n. 

Ye  heavens !  from  high  the  dewy  nectar  potir. 
And  in  soft  silence  shed  the  kindly  shower! 
The  sick  and  weak  the  healing  plant  shall  aid, 
From  storms  a  shelter,  and  from  heat  a  shade. 
All  crimes  shall  cease,  and  ancient  fraud  shall  fail ; 
Returning  justice  lift  aloft  her  scale ; 
Peace  o'er  the  world  her  olive  wand  extend. 
And  white-robed  innocence  from  heaven  descend. 

in. 

Swift  fly  the  years,  and  rise  the  expected  mom ! 
Oh  spring  of  light,  auspicious  Babe,  be  born  I 
See  nature  hastes  her  earliest  wreaths  to  bring, 
With  all  the  incense  of  the  breathing  spring: 
See  lofty  Lebanon  his  head  advance. 
See  nodding  forests  on  the  mountains  danoe : 


Chap.  4.]  THB   MSSSIAH.  99 

IV. 

Hark !  a  glad  voice  the  lonely  desert  cheers ; 
Prepare  the  way !  a  God,  a  God  appears : 
A  God,  a  God !  the  vocal  hills  reply, 
The  rocks  proclaim  the  approaching  Deity. 

V. 

Lo,  earth  receives  Him  from  the  bending  skies  I 
Sink  down,  ye  mountains,  and,  ye  valleys  rise ; 
With  heads  declined,  ye  cedars,  homage  pay ; 
Be  smooth,  ye  rocks ;  ye  rapid  floods,  give  way ; 
The  Saviour  comes !   by  ancient  bards  foretold  ! 
Hear  him,  ye  deaf,  and  all  ye  blind,  behold ! 
He  from  thick  films  shall  purge  the  visual  ray. 
And  on  the  sightless  eyeball  pour  the  day : 

VI. 

'Tis  He  the  obstructed  path  of  sound  shall  clear. 
And  bid  new  music  charm  the  unfolding  ear  ; 
The  dumb  shall  sing,  the  lame  his  crutch  forego. 
And  leap  exulting  like  the  bounding  roe. 
No  sigh,  no  murmur  the  wide  world  shall  hear, 
From  every  face  He  wipes  off  every  tear. 
In  adamantine  chains  shall  death  be  bound, 
And  hell's  grim  tyrant  feel  the  eternal  wound. 

VII. 

As  the  good  shepherd  tends  his  fleecy  care, 
Seeks  freshest  pastures  and  the  })ure8t  air. 
Explores  the  lost,  tlie  wandering  slicwp  direota. 
By  day  o'ersees  them,  and  by  night  |in»tect8. 


100  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    AKT.        [Vol.  I. 

The  tender  lambs  he  raises  in  his  arms, 
Feeds  from  his  hand,  and  in  his  bosom  warms ; 
Thus  shall  mankind  his  guardian  care  engage, 
The  promised  Father  of  the  future  age. 

VIII. 

'No  more  shall  nation  against  nation  rise, 
Nor  ardent  warriors  meet  with  hateful  eyes, 
Nor  fields  with  gleaming  steel  be  covered  o'er, 
The  brazen  trumpets  kindle  rage  no  more ; 
But  useless  lances  into  scythes  shall  bend. 
And  the  broad  falchion  in  a  ploughshare  end, 

IX. 

Then  palaces  shall  rise;  the  joyful  son 
Shall  finish  what  his  short-lived  sire  begun ; 
Their  vines  a  shadow  to  their  race  shall  yield, 
And  the  same  hand  that  sowed,  shall  reap  the  field. 
The  swain,  in  barren  deserts  with  surprise 
See  lilies  spring,  and  sudden  verdure  rise  ; 
And  start  amid  the  thirsty  wilds,  to  hear 
New  falls  of  water  murmuring  in  his  ear. 

X. 

On  rifted  rocks,  the  dragon's  late  abodes, 

The  green  reed  trembles,  and  the  bulrush  nods. 

Waste  sandy  valleys,  once  perplexed  with  thorn, 

The  spiry  fir  and  shapely  box  adorn ; 

To  leafless  shrub,  the  flowering  palms  succeed, 

And  odorous  myrtle  to  the  noisome  weed. 


Cluip.  4.J  THE    MESSIAH.  10] 

XI. 

The  lambs  with  wolves  shall  graze  the  verdant  mead, 
And  boys  in  flowering  bands  the  tiger  lead ; 
The  steer  and  lion  at  one  crib  shall  meet, 
And  harmless  serpents  lick  the  pilgrim's  feet. 
The  smilinsc  infant  in  his  hand  shall  take 
The  crested  basilisk  and  speckled  snake, 
Pleased,  the  green  lustre  of  the  scales  survey. 
And  with  their  forky  tongue  shall  innocently  play. 

XII. 

Rise,  crowned  with  light,  imperial  Salem,  rise ! 
Exalt  thy  towery  head,  and  lift  thine  eyes ! 
See,  a  long  race  thy  spacious  courts  adorn ; 
See  future  sons,  and  daughters  yet  unborn, 
In  crowding  ranks  on  every  side  arise. 
Demanding  life,  impatient  for  the  skies ! 

XIII. 

See  barbarous  nations  at  thy  gates  attend, 

Walk  in  thy  light,  and  in  thy  temple  bend  ; 

See  thy  bright  altars  thronged  with  i)rostrate  kings. 

And  heaped  with  products  of  Sabean  springs. 

For  thee  Idume's  spicy  forests  blow, 

And  seeds  of  gold  in  Ophir's  mountains  glow. 

See  heaven  its  sparkling  portals  wide  display, 

And  break  upon  thee  in  a  flood  of  day. 

XIV. 

No  more  the  rising  sun  shall  gild  the  morn, 
Nor  evening  Cyntliia  fill  her  silver  horn  ; 


102  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [YoLI. 

But  lost,  dissolved  in  thy  superior  rays, 
One  tide  of  glory,  one  unclouded  blaze 
O'erflow  thy  courts ;  the  Light  himself  shall  shine 
Revealed,  and  God's  eternal  day  be  thine ! 
The  seas  shall  waste,  the  skies  in  smoke  decay, 
Rocks  fall  to  dust,  and  mountains  melt  away ; 
But  fixed  his  word,  his  saving  power  remains ; 
Thy  realm  forever  lasts,  thine  own  Messiah  reigns ! 

Alexander  Pope. 


EACH  CAN  BEAR  HIS  OWN. 

1.  It  is  a  celebrated  thought  of  Socrates  that  if  all 
the  misfortunes  of  mankind  were  cast  into  a  pubhc 
stock,  in  order  to  be  equally  distributed  among  the 
whole  species,  those  who  now  think  themselves  the 
most  unhappy  would  prefer  the  share  they  are  already 
possessed  of  before  that  which  would  fall  to  them  by 
such  a  division.  Horace  has  carried  this  thought  a 
great  deal  further  in  the  motto  of  my  paper,  which 
implies,  that  the  hardships  or  misfortunes  we  lie  under 
are  more  easy  to  us  than  those  of  any  other  person 
would  be,  in  case  we  could  change  conditions  with 
him. 

2.  As  I  was  ruminating  upon  these  two  remarks, 
and  seated  in  my  elbow  chair,  I  insensibly  fell  asleep ; 
when  on  a  sudden  me-thought  there  was  a  proclama- 


Chap.  4.1  EACH    CAN   BBAB   HIS    OWN.  103 

tion  made  by  Jupiter,  that  every  mortal  should  bring 
in  his  griefs  and  calamities,  and  throw  them  together 
in  a  heap.  There  was  a  large  plain  appointed  for  this 
purpose.  I  took  my  stand  in  the  centre  of  it,  and 
saw  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  the  whole  human 
species  marching  one  after  another,  and  throwing  down 
their  several  loads,  which  immediately  grew  up  into 
a  prodigious  mountain,  that  seemed  to  rise  above  the 
clouds. 

3.  There  was  a  certain  lady  of  a  thin  airy  shape, 
who  was  very  active  in  this  solemnity.  She  carried 
a  magnify ing-glass  in  one  of  her  hands,  and  was 
clothed  in  a  loose  flowing  robe,  embroidered  with 
several  figures  of  fiends  and  spectres,  that  discovered 
themselves  in  a  thousand  chimerical  shapes  as  her 
garment  hovered  in  the  wind.  There  was  something 
wild  and  distracted  in  her  looks.  Her  name  was 
Fancy.  She  led  up  every  mortal  to  the  appointed 
place,  after  having  very  ofiBciously  assisted  him  in 
making  up  his  pack,  and  laying  it  upon  his  shoulders. 
My  heart  melted  within  me  to  see  my  fellow-creatures 
groaning  under  their  respective  burdens,  and  to  con- 
sider that  prodigious  bulk  of  human  calamities  wliich 
lay  before  me. 

4.  There  were,  however,  several  persons  who  gave 
me  great  diversion  upon  this  occasion.  I  olwerved 
one  bringing  in  a  fardel  very  carefully  concealed  under 
an  old  embroidered  cloak,  which,  upon  his  throwing 
into  the  heap,  I  discovered  to  be  poverty.     Another, 


104  THB    SIXTEEN"    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OP    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

after  a  great  deal  of  puffing,  threw  down  his  luggage, 
which,  upon  examining,  I  found  to  be  his  wife. 

5.  There  were  multitudes  of  lovers  saddled  with 
very  whimsical  burdens  composed  of  darts  and  flames ; 
but,  what  was  very  odd,  though  they  sighed  as  if  their 
hearts  would  break  under  these  bundles  of  calamities, 
they  could  not  persuade  themselves  to  cast  them  into 
the  heap,  when  they  came  up  to  it ;  but,  after  a  few 
faint  efforts,  shook  their  heads,  and  marched  away  as 
heavy  loaden  as  they  came.  I  saw  multitudes  of  old 
women  throw  down  their  wrinkles,  and  several  young 
ones  who  stripped  themselves  of  a  tawny  skin.  There 
were  very  great  heaps  of  red  noses,  large  lips,  and 
rusty  teeth.  The  truth  of  it  is,  I  was  surprised  to 
see  the  greatest  part  of  the  mountain  made  up  of 
bodily  deformities. 

6.  Observing  one  advancing  toward  the  heap  with 
a  larger  cargo  than  ordinary  upon  his  back,  I  found 
upon  his  near  approach  that  it  was  only  a  natural 
hump,  which  he  disposed  of  with  great  joy  of  heart 
among  this  collection  of  human  miseries.  There  were 
likewise  distempers  of  all  sorts ;  though  I  could  not 
but  observe,  that  there  were  many  more  imaginary 
than  real.  One  little  packet  I  could  not  but  take 
notice  of,  which  was  a  complication  of  all  the  diseases 
incident  to  human  nature,  and  was  in  the  hand  of  a 
great  many  fine  people  ;  this  was  called  the  spleen. 
But  what  most  of  all  surprised  me,  was  a  remark  I 
made,  that  there  was  not  a  single  vice  or  folly  thrown 


Chap.  4.]  BACH   CAN    BEAB   HIS    OWN.  105 

into  the  whole  heap ;  at  which  I  was  very  much 
astonished,  having  concluded  with  myself  that  every 
one  would  take  this  opportunity  of  getting  rid  of  his 
passions,  prejudices,  and  frailties. 

7.  I  took  notice  in  particular  of  a  very  profligate 
fellow,  who  I  did  not  question  came  loaden  with  his 
crimes ;  but  upon  searching  into  his  bundle,  I  found 
that,  instead  of  throwing  his  guilt  from  him,  he  had 
only  laid  down  his  memory.  He  was  followed  by 
another  worthless  rogue,  who  flung  away  his  modesty 
instead  of  his  ignorance. 

8.  When  the  whole  race  of  mankind  had  thus  cast 
their  burdens,  the  phantom  which  had  been  so  busy  on 
this  occasion,  seeing  me  an  idle  Spectator  of  what  had 
passed,  approached  towards  me.  I  grew  uneasy  at 
her  presence,  when  of  a  sudden  she  held  her  magnify- 
ing-glass  full  before  my  eyes.  I  no  sooner  saw  my 
face  in  it,  but  I  was  startled  at  the  shortness  of  it, 
which  now  appeared  to  me  in  its  utmost  aggravation. 
The  immoderate  breadth  of  the  features  made  me 
very  much  out  of  humor  with  my  own  countenance, 
upon  which  I  threw  it  from  me  like  a  mask. 

9.  It  happened  very  luckily  that  one  who  stood  by 
me  had  just  before  thrown  down  his  visage,  which  it 
seems  was  too  long  for  him.  It  was  indeed  extended 
to  a  most  shameful  lengtli ;  I  believe  the  very  chin 
was,  modestly  speaking,  as  long  as  my  whole  face. 
We  had  both  of  us  an  opi)ortunity  of  mending  our- 
selves ;  and  all    the  contributions  being  now  brought 


106  THE    SIXTEEN    PERFECTIVE    LAWS    OF    ART.        [Vol.  I. 

in,  every  man  was  at  liberty  to  exchange  his  mis- 
fortunes for  those  of  another  person.  But  as  there 
arose  many  new  incidents  in  the  sequel  of  my  vision, 
I  shall  reserve  them  for  the  subject  of  my  next  paper. 

Joseph  Addison 


.  WORKS    OF 
CHARLES    WESLEY    EMERSON 


EVOLUTION  OF  EXPRESSION 

Published  in  Four  Volume. 

PERFECTIVE   LAWS   OF  ART 

Published  in  Four  Volumes 

PHYSICAL    CULTURE  Illustrated 

PHILOSOPHY    OF  GESTURE  Illustrated 

PSYCHO    VOX  Illustrated 

SIX   LECTURES  One   Volume 

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